


Capes and a Strong Sense of Justice

by praesaepe



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:33:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/praesaepe/pseuds/praesaepe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince is the resident superhero of the city of Camelot. He fights crime, catches criminals, so on so forth, all without any powers at his disposal. Warlock is the new kid on the block, with amazing fighting skills and magic to boot. Somehow they end up teaming up- and that's when it all goes bad. Enter Witch, the world's first supervillain. They knew it was going to happen, because good can't rise without an equal bad to combat it, but they weren't prepared for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Paperlegends! My lovely artist was [dylogger](http://dylogger.livejournal.com/) and I am so thankful for her. Her gorgeous artwork and great story advice really helped me with some pretty big things, and her being the go-between for me and the paperlegends mod because I have no idea how to use livejournal was the best, especially when I had difficulties with my computer and had to reschedule my posting date.  
> This is my first fic for Merlin and my first more than 5k fic.

 

 

 

 

They call him Prince. He comes in the night, swift and sure, stopping the most heinous of criminals in their deeds. No one knows where he came from or when he started appearing. He simply comes, does his duty, and leaves. He’s an actual superhero, the likes of which had only been fantasized about in comic books and fictional novels.

Everyone he has saved has a different story, a different view about what he could do. There’s talk of the ability to fly, of strength behind comprehension, and even of psychic powers. But when you get to the truth of the matter, he’s fast and strong, but not unrealistically. He is a master of hand-to-hand combat, disabling people with only a few blows. He’s a very skilled swordsman, though the blade itself is a last resort and rarely used. Prince is no murderer. Not if he can help it.

\--

“Oh God, please, don’t-“ The woman’s cries where cut off as the thug shoved a hand forward into her throat. She made a small choking noise and struggled to breathe as he took his hand away and kept her shoved against the wall of the alley.

“I just want your purse, baby,” he said, his voice deep and menacing. He pulled a pocket knife from his pocket and held it against the dark skin of her neck, pressing the cold metal right over her jugular. “Don’t make me use this, sweetie. Just don’t struggle.” Fear flashed in the woman’s eyes. Was he going to stop at just her purse, or was he going to go further? She struggled a bit, kicking at him, but he pressed the blade closer and opened a small scratch in her neck. She froze once more.

“I’d put that knife away and step away from the woman.”

The thug turned towards the noise abruptly, keeping the woman shoved up against the brick wall. A dark figure stepped from the shadows. The thug laughed.

“Oh, so the caped crusader is going to stop me?” he said with mocking fear. The woman stared at the figure, eyes wide. The man did his best to give her a comforting look from behind the dark mask on his upper face, his blue eyes conveying reassurance. He looked back towards the thug and took another step forward, the moonlight hitting him more directly, revealing the silver color of his outfit. It seemed to reflect the light.

The man was lean but muscled. The fabric of his costume was thick and looked as though it were made of Kevlar. It covered his entire body, wrapping him in darker silver. A red cloak was fastened around his shoulders, and the hood was up, casting a shadow over his face. A sword sat in a sheath around his waist, along with several small daggers and a small pack of what appeared to be smoke pellets. A plain black mask was wrapped around his face.

“Preferably, you would stop yourself, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. So yes, I’m going to stop you,” he said in a low voice. The thug pushed the woman onto the dirty alley floor and pointed his knife at the masked stranger. This time it was the stranger who laughed. His hand flashed out and knocked the knife out of the man’s hand before he could blink. The thug looked at his empty hand and back up at the mysterious man, rage contorting his features.

“I’m going to get you for that!” he said. He charged with wild abandon at his opponent- and straight into the other wall of the alley as the man sidestepped at the last second. The thug turned around and launched himself at the other once more, only to receive a sound kick in the stomach and a fist across his jaw. He fell onto the ground, tears pooling in his eyes before he lost consciousness.

The silver-clad man turned towards the woman on the alley floor. He held his hand out, and she took it tentatively. He pulled her up and she stumbled a little bit, straight into his shoulder. He righted her and brushed a bit of dirt off of the back of her dress.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “Who know what he would have done to me.” The woman shivered.

“You’re welcome. You need to be more careful. He’s certainly not the first person to try to pull that stunt, and he certainly won’t be the last.” The man had deep warmth in his voice now. It was no longer the colder, more vicious tone he had used when speaking to the thug. “You should call the police now. You’ll need to be here to give your statement when they arrive.” The woman glanced fearfully at the unconscious man on the ground as he let out a low moan.

“You’re not going to leave me alone here with him, are you?” she asked, frightened. The man shifted again; she flinched.

“I’ll stay with you until the police are near, but I can’t be here when they arrive,” he explained. She nodded a small agreement and pulled out her phone to dial 911. Soon a cop car was headed their way. The man shared his cloak; the woman huddled under it and pressed against his side to stave off the cold. The dress she was wearing wasn’t a very good one for walking at night in the fall. It was short, black, and strapless; perfect for a night out on town. Her matching black handbag had been the start of the problem. She had been at a club with her friends when she had decided to go home a bit early on account of a slight headache. On the way down the street, this man had grabbed her arm and pulled her into a nearby alley.

“I really can’t thank you enough,” she said. “You’re very brave, you do know that? I’m Guinevere, by the way. Who are you?” The headlights from the police car brightened the street and blinded Guinevere. The cloak disappeared from around her shoulders and the warm presence by her side moved away.  
“They call me Prince.” The cloaked man fled down the alley, leaving Guinevere standing alone as the policeman walked up to her. He looked at her and down at the man lying on the ground. Guinevere rubbed her shoulders and looked up.

She thought she saw a shadow up on the roof staring down at her, but when she blinked and looked again, it was gone.

\--

Prince watched from the roof as the policeman started questioning the woman. Guinevere, she had said her name was. He reached up and lifted the mask away from his skin for a second to wipe the sweat from his brow. The fight itself had been relatively easy, but even the slight exertion of it made him sweat due to the heavy fabric of his suit.  
“Damn anonymity!” he cursed quietly. “Damn Kevlar.” Still, it was a necessary evil for his safety. He wasn’t bulletproof, after all.

The masked man pulled his hood down, revealing short, golden hair. He wiped his bangs away from his eyes and settled into a crouching position, the tip of his sword tapping the ground. He almost wanted to slide the mask away from his eyes and onto his neck just for a moment, but he knew better. Someone could come up on the roof at any time, and that would be the end of Prince.

Abruptly he stood up and turned away from the alley. He was on the lower of two adjacent buildings; he quickly scaled the wall to the top of the higher one and stood there, surveying the ground below. There was no activity in the immediate area. Sirens sounded in the distance, but he ignored them. If the police were on their way, he would stay out of the way. They didn’t really appreciate vigilantes, especially one of his caliber. He did make them seem incompetent at times.  
He scanned the rooftops now, looking for some sort of movement or flicker in a shadow to betray its owner. A small rustle of fabric behind him caused him to whirl around, pulling a dagger from his belt and pointing it in front of him, the edge glinting sharp and deadly in the moonlight. A figure in a cloak similar to his flitted away from him across the rooftop and jumped to the next building. They must have been standing behind him, watching him. He cursed angrily at himself; he was usually much more attentive than that and his lapse in attention might have cost him his life.

He gave chase, keeping the fleeing figure in his view as he ran across the span of the roof and leapt to the next building. He rolled his foot forward as he landed, heel to toe, absorbing the shock of the impact in the soles of his feet. His cloak billowed out behind him, making a loud snapping noise. Prince grimaced at the sound, but it couldn’t be helped. It was one of the only disadvantages of cloaks. He noted that the stranger's cloak didn't make the noise, but was to preoccupied to speculate why.

He ran in the darkness, the lights from the city the only thing keeping him from tripping over a vent on a roof and falling flat on his face. The stranger that had been watching him seemed to have even better vision in the dark than he did. They never faltered and brushed past protruding objects in the blink of an eye. Prince had to admit, he was impressed. That wasn’t going to stop him from catching this guy, though. The other man jumped across to another roof at the same moment Prince blinked. By the time his eyes opened, the man had seemed to disappear.

Prince made the leap as well, looking below him mid-jump to see if the man had let himself fall to the alley below. It was empty. He landed and slowed himself to a stop on the roof. His dagger was still clutched tightly in his hand; he turned his head side to side, listening closely. He couldn’t have gotten that far.

He took a tentative step forward and tensed when he heard a rustle of fabric to his left. His head whipped towards it, and he saw the man standing there. His cloak was dark blue and the hood kept his face from view. A small flash of gold came from under the hood. The handle of the dagger began burning in Prince’s hand and he dropped it with a small cry.

“I don’t like having weapons pointed at me,” the hooded figure said. “I don’t think anyone does, but I’m really not a big fan.” His voice was smooth and charming, quite unexpected considering the circumstances.

“I don’t really enjoy people trying to sneak up on me, so I think we’re even,” Prince said, glaring at the other man. “Who are you, and why were you watching me? And how did you do that thing with my dagger?” He rubbed his injured hand.

“I’m Warlock. You might have heard of me, Prince. Stories about me have been on the rise lately,” the man said. “You’re interesting, Prince. You don’t seem to have any sort of power. Just a regular guy, am I right?”

“If you call someone who spends their nights fighting crime a regular guy,” Prince replied. The name Warlock was familiar. He remembered seeing it in the paper a few times. He was another superhero. This city was just a breeding place for unusual phenomena, wasn’t it? Most cities don’t have one crime-fighting vigilante, let alone two. “You didn’t answer my last question. How did you make my dagger burn my hand? I saw the light from under your hood, whatever that was.”

“Oh, simple, really. I have magic,” Warlock said, shrugging. Prince’s eyebrows rose in disbelief.

“You have magic, and, uh, let me guess, chipmunks are going to overpower the human race and become the dominant species?” he snorted. Magic was fairy tales and bedtime stories. Magic was fake. Everyone knew that.

“I wouldn’t doubt chipmunks so much, Prince. When they become the overlords they’ll remember what you said about them,” Warlock said, chuckling. “But yes, I do have magic. Magic is real. Is that too hard for your meager mind to comprehend, Prince?” Warlock’s mocking tone infuriated Prince.

“Prove it, then, magic man. Do something flashy,” he challenged. “Something that I can’t refute.”

“Ok, I will. You’re very stubborn, did you know that? Not what I expected from someone who’s supposed to be a role model to girls and boys everywhere,” Warlock replied. He thought for a moment, supposedly deciding what he should do. A smirk crossed his face. There was another small flash of gold, and Prince’s hood unclasped itself and began to float above his head and out of his reach.

Prince looked up at it with wide eyes for a moment before staring at Warlock again. For a split second he was worried about Warlock being able to tell who he was without his hood, but the feeling passed as he remembered how covering the mask was, how big the city was, and how there were the extra shadows from the cloak floating overhead. Prince started. There was a cloak floating over his head.

The gold flashed again and the cloak dropped on his head. He sputtered indignantly as he pulled it off and threw it over his shoulders again. Warlock laughed as he smoothed his hair down and pulled his hood back up.

“Oh, thank you,” Prince said huffily, fastening the clasp again. “It’s great that people like you have magic instead of mature, responsible adults.”

“You think I’m immature?” Warlock said with a fake gasp. “I am mortified, sir. I will go learn the error of my ways, for I have done wrong.” They both stared at each other silently for a moment before doubling over laughing.

“You’re an idiot, that’s what you are,” Prince said, taking a deep breath before another guffaw passed his lips. “A big idiot with magical powers and a funny cloak.”

“My cloak looks just like yours, so you’re insulting yourself as well,” Warlock said, wiping away a tear. “Of course, we’re two grown men running around in cloaks in the middle of the night stopping petty theft. Neither of us have a right to laugh at each other.” He had visibly shifted into a more comfortable stance, unlike the tense one he had when he first stepped out of the shadows and made Prince drop his weapon.

“Well, maybe you stop petty theft, but I’ve actually saved lives. You remember that bank robbery? And the help received from yours truly? Those hostages might have been killed if it weren’t for my actions,” Prince boasted. He bent over to pick up his dagger, which was still lying on the ground. Warlock tensed a little bit as he stood back up but relaxed when he slid it into his belt. “Oh, still nervous, Warlock?”

“No.” He answered the question with eyes averted, however. He still was genuinely nervous. Prince felt a bit bad. This guy was new. He didn’t know about the job or how to handle it as well as Prince did. Prince considered himself a pseudo-expert on being a superhero.

“So how long have you been patrolling? I’ve seen some of your work mentioned in the paper, but I have no idea when you started doing the circuits,” he asked, changing the subject.

“I started just last month, but I’ve been training for several months. I’m going to be honest; you did inspire me to try it out. I had the power but no idea what to do with it. When I read about the cool stuff you did, I thought I could too,” Warlock admitted. “I practiced my magic in my spare time, learning spells from a dusty book I found in my attic. A lot of what I had was instinct, but I’ve fine-tuned it.”

“I haven’t heard you say any magic words, even when you knocked my dagger from my hand- which still hurts, by the way,” Prince added, rubbing it.

“Like I said, I do a lot of instinctual magic. I am really sorry for that,” Warlock apologized, rubbing the back of his head with one hand, gesturing to Prince's hand with the other, and shrugging. “I didn’t know what you wanted, and weapons don’t usually mean friendly.”

“To be fair, you were standing behind me staring at me,” Prince said. “Some might have said you were up to no good.”  
“I just wanted to meet you. I will be honest about that. I saw you in the area and was about to talk to you when you spotted that thug. Then I got nervous and nearly chickened out when you heard me,” a smile broke across his face again, “and chased me around the roofs. Good workout, by the way.”

“You bet it was a good workout,” Prince said. He looked at the sky and saw a slight lightening. “I better get back to patrolling. We have an hour or so before first light and that’s about the time I go to hang my sword up for the night.” He smiled at Warlock. “I wouldn’t be opposed to talking to you again. We might be able to work together on something. I don’t know. We’ll see.” He did a two finger salute before turning and jumping to a lower roof, landing in a crouch.

That Warlock guy seemed interesting, to say the least. And apparently magic is real. You learn something new every day. Prince cast one last glance over his shoulder before racing off into the night.

\--

Warlock watched Prince go. Prince was kind of how he had imagined him, but very different at the same time. He had expected a gruff, serious man, strong and brave. Prince definitely had the ‘strong and brave’ part down. He didn’t have any powers at all, but he still went out those nights and helped all those people. Guinevere was just another in a very long line.

She was also kind of familiar.

Warlock was sure he’d met her somewhere. Not as a hero, of course, but as a person. A person who hid what he could do and who he was and never spoke of how much he did for the people. Being a hero was harder than it looked. But it didn’t stop Prince, and if Prince could handle it, so could he.

He waved away thoughts of Guinevere and Prince. He wanted to patrol a bit before the sun came up. Warlock pulled his cloak more tightly around him and jumped to the next roof, landing lightly, his feet making the smallest of noises as he walked across it.

He had been completely honest with Prince. His magic was as natural to him as breathing was. He had been moving objects since before he could walk. That had been hard to write off with the neighbors, but his mother had managed to every time.

Warlock jumped to another rooftop, lower than the one he was on. It was too low for him to land safely, so he used a little spurt of magic to convince the wind to buffer his fall; he landed in a crouch, one hand on the ground, stabilizing him. The crash of glass to his right made him stand up and look into the street below.

A man had just smashed a glass window to a small antiques store and was currently climbing through the window, being careful to avoid the shards of glass. He appeared to be wearing some sort of costume, not unlike Warlock’s own, but different. It seemed to Warlock that it was like a window into space, but not just a void with pinprick stars. There was a cloud, bright and purple. It was more than a cloud, though; it was a nebula, a mass of space dust that was streaked through with shades of purple and crimson that seemed to be flecked with bright stars. Even his dark hair seemed to have a purple film over it, with tiny blotches of light reflecting out. He wore no mask and had a rounded face and somewhat distinctive nose. He seemed very young. The stranger had black boots and gloves with a continuation of the pattern trimming them, a dark collar around his neck, and a black sash around his waist. As he moved, the starry image seemed to shift and move with him. Warlock took a second to appreciate the ensemble before remembering that the man was, in fact, robbing a store.

He jumped down onto the street and reached forward, using his magic to grasp the back of the man’s outfit and pull him out of the window and into the street. The man was pulled a bit harder than Warlock meant to and smashed against the brick wall on the other side of the street. He fell to his knees, disorientated. Warlock strode up to him just as he raised his head. He reached back and touched the skin under his dark curls, and Warlock winced when he noticed they came away red with blood. He hadn’t meant to hurt him that much.

“You’ve made a mistake,” the man growled as he stood up, wiping his fingers on one starry leg. “It was a bad idea to mess with me.” There was a small flash in his eyes and Warlock was pushed back a few feet. He looked up, eyes wide.

“You’re magic too?” he breathed.

“What, you think this costume is all-natural?” he snorted. “Yes, I have magic. From what I can tell, though, it’s not nearly as good as yours. It’ll have to do, though.” There was another flash and Warlock found himself splayed out on the ground with invisible ropes holding him down. He struggled against them and found them very weak, lacking the level of skill that comes through experience and training. He remembered his first attempts at really using his magic and could tell that this man was a beginner. He concentrated slightly and the invisible ropes snapped. Standing up, he saw the man once again climbing through the window.

“Really? You tie me down- horribly, I might add- and try to break in? Even though I obviously have more skill, I might add. You could’ve delayed me enough for you to escape. Who are you, anyways?” Warlock said, rubbing his wrists. The man turned around, his eyes widening when he saw Warlock there.

“Who I am doesn’t matter, just leave me alone!” he spat. Warlock rubbed his forehead in exasperation.

“Ok, guess what? I’m a hero. At least, I’m supposed to be. And you’re robbing this store and wearing a ridiculous getup,” he explained. “As a hero, I’m supposed to stop you. I can’t just leave me alone. How old are you, anyways? You look like you’re 16.” The man rolled his eyes.

“I’m not 16. And fine, my name is Mordred,” he said, “and you’re not going to do anything to me.” Warlock heard a filter begin to spill into the young man’s voice, a drop of persuasion heightened by magic. “You’re going to climb up onto that roof and run away and maybe find a mugger or two to yell at.”

Even with his own magical capabilities, the magic in the persuasion was strong, and Warlock barely stopped himself from doing as Mordred said. He paused and cleared his head, a thrum of magic going through to wash out Mordred’s magic.

“Nice try,” Warlock growled. He lifted Mordred and pushed him over to a wall, using much more secure ropes to bind him. He also attempted to craft a spell that suppressed Mordred’s abilities so he couldn’t break free or use any more magic. He wasn’t sure how well it would work as he’d never had to do one before, so he just grimaced and hoped for the best. “The ropes will wear off once the police arrive. I’ve also suppressed your powers, so you can’t escape. You just sit tight, my friend.” A grin slipped onto his face as he finished talking. Mordred glared at him and spat at his feet.

“I won’t forget this,” he said.

“Have fun in juvie,” Warlock said. He floated himself up to the rooftop and ran off.

\--

As the sun came up and spilled its red light onto the city, two men climbed through windows into their homes. They stripped off uniforms as soon as they had closed the window. The dark-haired one took a shower, got dressed, and headed off for his first day of work at his new job. The blonde collapsed into his bed to sleep for a little longer before he headed to his own workplace.  
It was the start of a new day.


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

Merlin Emrys straightened his tie and stepped through the doors of Camelot Publishing. He walked through the lobby confidently, nodding and smiling at the people who made eye contact with him. He finally made it to the front desk and waited for the girl to turn around and speak to him. When he had come in for the job interview, he had passed her without a glance, not wanting to bother her. Now he looked at her more closely. She had brown hair and a dark complexion. As she swiveled in her chair and Merlin saw her face, he nearly gasped. It was Guinevere, the girl Prince had saved last night. He knew he had seen her before.

“Can I help you?” she asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. He managed a small smile.

“Uh, yes, I recently got a position in proofreading, and today is my first day,” he explained. “I don’t know where to go.” Guinevere laughed.  
“You’re one of the newbies? What’s your name?” she asked.

“I’m Merlin, Merlin Emrys,” he replied, extending his hand. Guinevere shook it.

“Nice to meet you, Merlin. I’m Gwen. Let me just check on the system where you’re supposed to go…” she trailed off as she typed something. A few second later she looked up. “You’re on the fourth floor. Take that elevator,” she indicated the elevator closest to the front desk, “and go straight down the hallway. It’s the fifth office on the right, 409.”

“Thanks, Gwen,” Merlin said gratefully. “I guess I’ll see you every time I come in, won’t I? And when I leave, too? I look forward to it.” He grinned and walked away from the desk and towards the elevator, pressing the up button when he reached the doors. As he stepped through the doors, another man slipped in to join him. Merlin pressed the button for the fourth floor. The stranger pressed the button for the fifth.

“You’re new here, then?” he asked. Merlin furrowed his eyebrows a bit.

“Yes. How could you tell?” he asked.

“You’re going to the fourth floor. Proofreading. New people go to proofreading first. If they’re good enough, they get promoted to other departments,” the man explained. Merlin looked him up and down. He too wore a suit, complemented with a blue tie with red stripes. His hair was short, dark, and semi-curly. “I’m in editing. My name is Lance.”  
“Hello, Lance. I’m Merlin,” Merlin said. Lance reached forward and Merlin grasped his hand and shook it. “How long did it take you to go up in the world?”

“Oh, a couple of months. It really depends on how well you do. I know someone who’s been in proofreading for a year, actually,” Lance said. “His name’s Gwaine. He’s in office 408. You should pop by and tell him Lance said hi.”

“Will do! I actually have office 409, so he’s right across from me,” Merlin said, smiling at Lance. The elevator bell dinged and the doors slid open to the fourth floor. “See you later, hopefully?”

“Sure! Maybe after work we could go out and have a drink. I know a great pub nearby,” Lance said. “Is seven a good time?”

“Seven sounds perfect.,” Merlin said, stepping out of the elevator.

“Invite Gwaine, too. He wouldn’t want to miss a trip to the pub,” Lance replied, laughing.

“See you then!” Merlin said as the doors closed. He brushed his sleeve off nervously before walking down the hall, halting when he came to 408. He knocked and opened the door, sticking his head in. A man with wavy brown hair sat at the desk, reading a sheaf of papers. He looked up as Merlin came through the door.

“I’m Merlin. Lance said to pop by and tell you ‘hi’ for him and invite you to join us at seven for a drink at the pub,” Merlin said. The man stood up and walked around the desk, smiling.

“I’m Gwaine. Nice to meet you. So Lance is already making friends with the newbies? He’s a nice bloke," Gwaine said, shaking his hand. Merlin noticed there seemed to be a lot of hand shaking going on. “I’d love to join you for that drink. If you have any questions, you can ask me. I’ve been here long enough, I should know how everything works.” Merlin grinned.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. He turned and walked out of Gwaine’s office and into his own. A stack of papers sat on his desk. Merlin sat down, sighed, and started working.

\--

Arthur Pendragon woke up to the harsh beeping of his alarm. He groaned and turned over, reaching out and hitting the stop button. Sitting up, he stretched his arms and rubbed his eyes.

“An hour is not nearly enough sleep,” he grumbled. Well, maybe you shouldn’t play hero if you’re going to complain, his inner voice scolded him. He just scowled and rolled out of bed. His silver costume still lay on the ground, the red cloak underneath it.

“Shit, I didn’t put it away,” he cursed. Luckily no one had come in. Morgana had a nasty habit of doing that, and it got very annoying very fast. He quickly picked up the bundle of clothes and threw it on the closet floor.

Arthur stepped into his bathroom, turned the water on, and stripped off his shirt, revealing the scrapes and bruises on his body. He accidentally brushed against the sink and winced when it turned out to be a particularly badly bruised spot. He looked down at his body, prodding at various bruises. A new particularly nasty one had sprung up on his right side. It was an ugly yellowish color and stung when he barely touched it.

He finally slipped off his briefs and stepped into the hot water streaming from the showerhead. It burned his skin and the drops of water were like needles, stabbing the bruises and shooting pain up his sides. He bent over in pain for a second, adjusting to the feeling, before standing up and soaking the water in. Sure, it was painful, but the heat relaxed the tension in his muscles. He felt a tight spot on his shoulder and pressed it, working it out, and sighing when it loosened. He had learned how to take care of most of the tension through a sort of self-massage.

Arthur finished his shower and stepped out, toweling himself mostly dry and wrapping the towel around his waist. He rubbed his chin, contemplating the stubble, before grabbing his razor from the sink counter and lathering his face with foam. He made quick, efficient strokes and soon his face was smooth and clear. He washed the foam down the sink.

He finished the other morning things, brushing his teeth and combing out his hair along with putting on a bit of cologne. He threw his towel on the tiled bathroom floor and entered his room again. He went back to his closet and selected a suit and a red tie.

Arthur hated suits. They felt so restricting and formal. With suits you had to act the part of perfection and professional. They were stifling and hot, more so than his costume, and that was saying something. Wearing a suit felt like wearing a straightjacket, and sometimes, before Arthur had become Prince, he had wondered if the suit would eventually drive him to a straightjacket.

Prince had changed Arthur a lot. Prince was like his alter ego, the one unafraid to save the day. Arthur Pendragon was CEO-in-training. At least, that was what his father called him. Uther took calls in his office and made important business decisions. Arthur did unimportant paperwork and stood next to his father in meetings. He was just a shadow, following Uther around. Prince was alone. Prince was in nobody’s shadow. Prince was important. Arthur Pendragon was not important.

Arthur laid the tie over his neck, pulling the smaller end over the bigger end and pulling the bigger end through the loop created. He had been tying his tie since he was about five years old, as Uther had constantly had Arthur as his shadow even then, attending formal events and smiling for business partners. Uther himself hadn’t taught Arthur how to tie a tie. Morgana had done that. Morgana was his older sister and sometimes almost a mother figure, the mother figure he had never had. Arthur pulled the knot tight and smoothed it against his button-down shirt. Perfectly done, as usual.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Morgana greeted him when he went downstairs. “I was about to come and get you. We don’t want you to be late.” Arthur glared at her and poured himself a cup of coffee. She grinned.

“I can take care of myself, Morgana,” he said tightly.

“Oh, don’t be so grumpy.” She reached out and ruffled his hair.

“Hey!” he said indignantly, smoothing it down. “I’ve got to look presentable for work!”

“Arthur, you look fine except for the horrible bags under your eyes,” she said. “You need more sleep. Following Uther around isn’t that stressful, is it? Well, really, with Uther you never know.”

“Morgana, I’m fine. I need to leave now,” he said, finishing his coffee. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

“Bye, Arthur,” she said, smiling. He walked into the garage and opened the door of his small red car, sliding in. The engine purred when he turned the key in the ignition. The garage door opened; Arthur watched behind him as he backed out into the street and drove towards the city center. He was heading out just after the morning rush, so the traffic wasn’t as bad as it could have been. He was grateful.

Arthur flashed his ID to the man at the toll gate as he drove into the parking lot nearest Camelot Publishing. He passed through and parked in one of the reserved spots. Perks of being the CEO's son.

No one noticed him slipping through the doors to the lobby. There wasn't as big a fuss for him as there was for Uther. The second they got word that Uther would be in the immediate vicinity they made everything as spotless and efficient as they could. It was understandable. He could fire anyone on the spot if he thought they weren't good enough. Camelot Publishing was a tightly run system.

Arthur's office was on the eighth floor. He entered the elevator, and Leon slipped in behind him, pressing the button for their floor before Arthur got the chance.

"Good morning, Arthur," he said cheerfully. "How are you today?" He tucked a brown lock of hair behind his ear.

"I'm fine, Leon. You?" Leon was an old family friend and one of the higher representatives of the company and often knew more about what was going on than Arthur did.  
"I'm doing good. We have a big meeting today," he added. Arthur groaned.

"I nearly forgot. That sounds absolutely exciting," he said. "What's it over this time?"

"That deal with the Nemeth printing company. I hear that Mithian, the CEO's daughter, will be there, and she's very pretty," Leon said. Arthur looked at him incredulously.  
"Really, Leon?"

"Just saying, Arthur." The bell for the eighth floor dinged and they both stepped out.

"Whatever. See you at lunch, Leon." Arthur turned right, opposite the direction Leon was going.

"Trying to set me up with a girl I haven't even heard of before. He sounds like Uther," Arthur muttered. He entered his office, straightened the plaque with his name on it, and set to paperwork.

\--

Merlin heard a faint knock at his door before the handle turned and Gwaine entered.

"Hey, you want to head down to the lunch room?" he asked. Merlin perked up. After a night out and a morning of paperwork, lunch sounded absolutely perfect.

"Sure, let me just get this stuff put away," he replied, leafing through the papers one last time before setting them to the side.

"How's your first day going?" Gwaine grinned as they walked down the hallway.

"It's good to have a job again," Merlin said, shrugging. "This isn't too hard. It's pretty straightforward, really."

“With that attitude you’ll get promoted in no time!” Gwaine said, putting an arm around his shoulder and squeezing. Merlin stood there stiffly until Gwaine let go. They stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby.

“So what exactly does ‘lunch room’ entail?” Merlin asked.

“Really, it’s a cafeteria, but they want it to sound snazzier so they called it a ‘lunch room’,” Gwaine explained. “Camelot Publishing is a fancy place; it has its own cafeteria and a catering company that supplies the food.” Merlin whistled. The doors slid open and he and Gwaine walked through the lobby to the double doors of the lunch room. He stopped in front of them and barred Merlin from passing him.

“What are you doing?” Merlin asked. Gwaine grinned.

“I present you,” he made a large arm gesture and pushed one of the doors open, “the lunch room.” Merlin laughed and walked past him. He stepped into a large room filled with tables and people talking and eating. It was like high school all over again. Merlin shivered; that was a very bad comparison.

Gwaine led Merlin over to the food lines, grabbing a tray along the way. There were several different places to get different things. Merlin opted for the salad bar while Gwaine grabbed Chinese. They set their trays down and headed over to get their drinks.

\--

Arthur was finally taking his lunch break; he had been doing paperwork all morning and hadn’t had breakfast. He went through the line for a hamburger and was walking towards the table Leon was sitting at when something moved in the corner of his eye. He barely had a second to register what it was- a man, probably someone from editing or proofreading- before they ran straight into him, the cup in their hand emptying its contents on his nice button-down shirt. The tray was knocked out of his hands. His food fell to the floor with a loud clatter, and Arthur stood there staring down at the brown stain on his light shirt. His tie had dark splotches.

The entire room went silent.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry, I didn’t see you-“ the man sputtered. “I have a napkin, take it.” Arthur looked up at the man. Rage smoldered in his eyes.

“You clumsy idiot! Do you even watch where you’re going?” he yelled. The man opened his mouth, but Arthur cut him off. “Do you know how much this shirt cost? Do you know who I am?”

The man stared at him, eyes wide. He had dark hair and largish ears; Arthur noted that subconsciously. He was too angry at the moment to really register it.

“I have no idea who you are, sir,” the man said. Arthur glared at him.

“I am Arthur Pendragon. My father owns this company, and I could have you fired in an instant,” he hissed. Arthur felt a hand on his shoulder and looked back to see Leon looking at him disapprovingly.

“You’re fine, Arthur,” he said. “Just go home and get another shirt.” Arthur began to feel guilty, but not enough to keep him from storming out of the lunch room and through the lobby. That complete and utter idiot, ruining one of his good shirts.

He started his car and backed out of his parking spot. The drive back to his home was faster than the drive to the lot had been; it was the middle of the day and the traffic was lighter. He slammed the car door behind him and went up to his room, tugging the shirt off along the way. He threw it on the bed and grabbed a similar shirt from the closet. Just as he was about to shut it, he looked down and saw his Prince costume.

Arthur became overwhelmed with guilt. Here he was. A hero by night, a total asshole by day. How could he wear the Prince outfit if he couldn’t be forgiving of a man for an accident? He sat on the bed and held his head in his hands. It was just a shirt; no big deal at all, really. He could make excuses up, like he wasn’t getting enough sleep, or the double jobs were stressing him out, but he knew exactly what they were: excuses. He had had a choice, and he had chosen to be a prat. He dragged his hands down his face before resting his palms on his knees. He remained in that position for a minute, then stood up. He needed to go apologize.

\--

“I’m sorry about Arthur,” Leon said to Merlin. “He’s been kind of stressed lately, I guess. I don’t think he’s had a proper night of sleep in weeks either. He’s not usually this bad.”  
Merlin stared at Leon for a second before answering.

“I feel awful about his shirt. Is there anything I can do?” he asked. Leon cracked a smile; Merlin was still trying to be nice after what Arthur had said to him. Leon had a feeling he would really like this guy.

“I don’t think so. It’s not anything that is really important. Arthur will get over it,” he replied.

“Well, still, someone’s got to clean up this mess,” Merlin pressed.

“The janitor’s got it,” Leon said. Already a man with a mop and cart was heading in their direction.

“If you’re sure,” Merlin said uneasily. Leon smiled again.

“Yes, I’m sure. Go eat. This will be taken care of. I’m Leon, by the way.”

“Merlin. Nice to meet you, even with the circumstances.”

“Nice to meet you too, Merlin.”

Merlin went and got another cup, this time watching more carefully as he walked back to his table. He sat down and Gwaine whistled.

“That’s one way to get the attention of your superiors, Merlin,” he said.

“Oh, shut up, Gwaine,” Merlin mumbled, his face red. Getting yelled at in front of all those people was bad enough; he didn’t need Gwaine making fun of him in addition to the stares and whispers he was receiving. “It was an accident, that’s all. Leon said he would get over it.”

“Arthur’s actually not that bad, from what I’ve heard. Of course, he hardly shows his face in proofreading, but I’ve heard stories of him doing nice things for people. Bit of a short temper, though,” Gwaine said.

“I can tell,” Merlin said dryly. He picked at his salad, no longer as interested in it as before. Gwaine looked down at his plate and reached over to pat Merlin’s shoulder.

“Ah, cheer up, buddy. Eat your rabbit food,” he joked. Merlin smiled.

“Rabbit food? Gwaine, out of all the jokes you could have made, you decided on rabbit food? I am highly disappointed. I guess I overestimated your funniness,” he said, sighing. “It’s over between us. I need to find a new friend, now.” Gwaine laughed, deep and heartily. It was infectious, and soon Merlin was holding his stomach and laughing too. Gwaine looked up, wiping a tear from his eye, and paused, looking over Merlin’s shoulder. He sobered up immediately. Merlin blinked at him in confusion before turning around and seeing Arthur heading towards them.

“Shit,” he muttered. Arthur stood next to him awkwardly, fiddling with his tie. Merlin braced himself, but Arthur was silent. It stretched out awkwardly until Merlin finally spoke.

“Look, I’m really sorry about spill-“Merlin started, but Arthur looked at him and Merlin closed his mouth.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blown up on you like that,” Arthur said. Merlin stared up at him in shock, barely keeping his jaw from dropping open. Gwaine’s eyebrows rose. “Could we, I don’t know, start over? I’m Arthur Pendragon. Nice to meet you.” Arthur reached down towards Merlin. Merlin stood up hastily and turned around, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. After Arthur dropped it Merlin noticed that it was shaking.

“I’m Merlin Emrys. This is actually my first day here,” he added. “I’m in proofreading.” Arthur smiled a bit; Merlin seemed to forgive him, which was good.  
“Thanks, Merlin.”

Merlin's head buzzed with confusion. He had ruined Arthur's shirt, and Arthur was apologizing?

"We're going to the pub tonight," Gwaine said. "Want to join us?" Arthur appeared to contemplate it for a moment before speaking.

"Sure," he said. "What time are you meeting, and which pub?"

"We're meeting at seven at that pub on Kings Road," Gwaine replied.

"Our friend Lance is coming," Merlin added.

“Could I bring my mate Leon?” Arthur asked.

“The more the merrier,” Gwaine said. Arthur laughed.

"I'll meet you there at seven, then." He walked away, the tension that had been present in his step when he first walked up gone.

"Now we're going to the pub with the boss's son," Gwaine said. "You, Merlin, have a talent for getting the attention of authority figures."

"It seems I do, but I've yet to know if that's a good thing or a bad thing," Merlin said, shrugging. "Come on, let's eat. I'm starving." They quickly devoured the remainder of their lunches and headed back upstairs, parting ways at their offices.

When Merlin finally clocked out at five, he was exhausted. He got home as quickly as he could, shed his suit in favor of more comfortable, less formal clothes, and promptly fell asleep on his bed.

His alarm woke him at 6:30 later that night. He groaned. I could still skip out on this, you know. I could just sleep until I head out for the night, he thought. He shook his head. Arthur was going to be there, and Merlin still wanted to better his image after the incident at lunch. He stood up and brushed his clothes off, getting rid of the rumpling that had occurred while he had been asleep. He grabbed his wallet and keys as he walked out the door and headed down the street with his hands in his pockets, shivering in the cool air.

\--

Arthur arrived at the pub, Avalon, at around 6:50. Neither Gwaine nor Merlin was there, but a young man with dark hair sat at the bar. The man noticed Arthur and waved him over, greeting him with a smile.

"Arthur Pendragon! I've heard a lot about you at the office. I'm Lance," Lance said. "Gwaine and Merlin should be here soon."

"Good, good." Arthur slid into the seat next to Lance. "Which area do you work in?"

"Editing," Lance said. A draft of cold air blew in as someone opened the door. Arthur turned and saw Merlin walk in, his hands in his pockets. He was wearing a red long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans. Looking at him in street clothes, Arthur was struck by how good he looked.

He had a firm jaw and brilliantly blue eyes; a shadow of stubble graced his chin. He saw Arthur and smiled and waved. Arthur fixated on his mouth for a moment before flicking his eyes back up to Merlin's.

"Merlin," he nodded. Merlin looked at Lance sitting next to him.

"I see you've met Lance," Merlin said.

"He and I were talking about you and Gwaine before you got here," Lance said.

"Speaking of Gwaine," Merlin said, surveying the room. "Where is he? And where is that Leon guy you mentioned, Arthur?"

“I’m not sure where Gwaine is,” Lance frowned and looked at his watch. “He should be here by now.”

“I’m surprised Leon isn’t here yet,” Arthur added. Suddenly the door swung open.

“You weren’t going to start the party without me, were you?” Gwaine plopped onto the seat on the other side of Lance. Leon was close behind him, sitting down next to Arthur.  
“We wouldn’t dream of it, Gwaine,” Lance laughed. Gwaine beamed at him before turning his gaze towards Arthur.

“The big boss man decided to show up? Kind of surprising, I must say,” he snorted. Merlin was confused by Gwaine’s change in attitude towards Arthur. He hadn’t been this way when they had been talking at lunch. Arthur was just as confused as Merlin, which was obvious by the look on his face. Leon raised his eyebrows.

“Gwaine,” Lance said in a warning tone. Gwaine looked at him innocently.

“I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, Gwaine, but-“ Arthur began to say.

“So, how about we order drinks?” Lance said cheerfully, cutting him off. There was a small pause; the tension was so thick you felt you could cut it with a knife. Finally Merlin spoke and it dissipated.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” he said, sitting in the seat next to Arthur. Lance turned to the bartender and said something. He came back a short while later with several full cups. Arthur took a deep draught of it and found it was very strong. He shook himself a little, and Gwaine laughed at him. Arthur took that as a challenge and quickly drank down the rest of it.

“Might want to slow down there a bit, Arthur,” Merlin said. Arthur didn’t pay attention and got another drink from the bartender. This one was gone as fast as the last one. The world went fuzzy.

\--

Merlin helped support Arthur’s weight as they walked out of the pub. Arthur had been no lightweight, but when he got drunk, he got very drunk. It had taken Merlin constantly nagging him and the bartender cutting him off to get him to stop. He was going to be very hungover the next morning.

Leon had left earlier in the evening, citing his early escape as a need to sleep in preparation for a morning meeting. Gwaine was still in the pub with Lance, talking about football, and Merlin realized that Arthur really needed to get home at that point, so he took his leave of his friends to take him there.

“I guess this means no going out tonight,” Arthur slurred.

“I don’t get what you mean, Arthur,” Merlin said, pulling Arthur back up as he began to slide down. “Why don’t you just concentrate on not falling flat on your face and leave the talking for another time?” Merlin hadn’t drunk nearly as much as Arthur; he still wanted to have a little outing tonight, so he needed to show some self-restraint. “Now, did you drive here or walk?”

“I drove here, of course,” Arthur said. “Here, I can drive you home.” The words were thick and heavy on his tongue. and he reached into his pocket and began to fumble for his keys.

“Oh, no, you won’t. That is not happening. I’m going to drive you home, Pendragon,” Merlin said quickly. “Don’t try to tell me not to. You’re too drunk to even think straight, let alone drive properly.”

“Fine,” Arthur grumbled. He finally pulled out a clinking set of keys. “Here are m’keys. Don’t scratch my baby. It’s parked right there.” He dropped the set in Merlin’s open hand, nodding at his car up ahead, and they continued the walk towards Arthur’s car.

There was a moment’s silence. Arthur nearly tripped and fell, but Merlin caught him and pulled him back up.

“You know, Merlin, you really aren’t half as bad as I thought you were,” Arthur mumbled. “You’re a clumsy git, but you’re a nice guy.” A smile tugged at the corner of Merlin’s mouth.

“Whatever, Arthur. I’m just glad you’re not screaming at me.” Arthur winced.

“M’sorry about that Merlin,” he said. “There was really no reason for me to act like that."

“It’s ok,” Merlin said. They reached the car and Merlin pulled open the passenger door and pushed Arthur inside, making sure he was all the way in before shutting it. He walked around to the other side and slid into the driver’s seat. “Where do you live?” Arthur rattled off an address, luckily in a part of town Merlin could easily navigate, and Merlin started the engine.

“She’s a good car,” Arthur said, patting the dashboard. “Gets me where I need to go.”

“I’m sure she does, Arthur.” Merlin chuckled, and they pulled out of the parking space and were on the road towards Arthur’s house. The clock on the display said it was 12 P.M. Normally Merlin would have been on patrol for about two hours, but he had lost track of time in the pub. He comforted himself in the fact that he was still doing something good; not only was he keeping Arthur from hurting himself or getting lost, he was taking a drunk driver off the street and reducing the chances of a crash.

 _I wonder if Prince is already out_ , Merlin thought absentmindedly. He had had Prince on his mind all day since their meeting the previous night. Prince seemed like he could be a douche, but he had good intentions in everything he did, which was good. He actually shared some similarities with Arthur, now that he thought about it.

He pulled up to Arthur’s house and used the button on the sun visor to open the garage and park in it. Arthur was quiet in the passenger seat, making no effort to unbuckle his seat belt let alone get out of the car. Merlin sighed and went over the passenger side door, opening it the same time the door into the house opened. A woman with soft, dark hair down her back stood in the doorway, a baseball bat in one hand.

“Who’re you?” she asked suspiciously. Merlin didn’t blame her for being suspicious; there was a strange man in her garage with her brother, who was unresponsive in the passenger seat.

“I’m Merlin. Merlin Emrys. Arthur went to the pub with a group of us and had a bit much to drink, so I had to drive him home,” Merlin explained.

“That makes sense, I guess,” the woman said. “I’m Morgana Pendragon, his sister. Nice to meet you, Merlin.” She smiled.

“You too,” Merlin replied, reaching across to unbuckle Arthur’s seatbelt and pull it off of him. He tried to pull Arthur from the car, but he was too heavy and the angle was awkward.

“Oh, let me help you with that,” Morgana said. She came to Merlin’s side and grabbed Arthur’s arm. Finally, with her and Merlin’s combined effort, they got Arthur out of the car and onto his feet. They guided him towards the door and Morgana reached forward and opened it.

“Come on, you have to help me get him to his room,” Morgana said.

"I wouldn't let you move this great lump alone," Merlin said, grinning. Morgana chuckled. She led the way now, taking them through the kitchen and up some stairs. Arthur fell twice on the stairs and they managed to pick him up both times, though it took a lot of effort.

Arthur started snoring as soon as he hit the pillow. Merlin wiped his brow and smiled at Morgana.

"Your brother is heavier than he looks," he said. Morgana laughed.

"A bit thicker, yeah," she replied. Merlin chuckled. "Thanks for bringing him home. Do you have a ride yourself?"

"No, but it's not that long a walk. I'll be fine," he replied.

"Are you sure? I can drive you," Morgana offered. Merlin shook his head.

"I'm sure," he said. "Make sure he gets strong coffee in the morning. He's going to need it." He smiled again, and Morgana chuckled. She walked him to the door, and they parted ways.

Merlin stuck his hands back in his pockets. Summer hadn't come yet, so there was a spring chill that lingered in the air. Merlin shivered and came to a decision. He looked around cautiously. No one was walking down the street and all of the curtains were drawn, so he ducked into an alley. His eyes lit with a golden glow, and his clothes transfigured into the blue cloak of Warlock. He climbed to the top of the nearby building and ran off.

\--

Morgana retreated back into the house and away from the cold. She went back up to check on Arthur. Surprisingly, he had woken and lay there, still drunk and muttering incomprehensibly. Morgana lay her hand on his cheek.

"I like Merlin," he said, the only words clear in his babble. Morgana smiled.

"Swefe nu," she whispered. Her eyes glowed liquid gold, and Arthur fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

Merlin was tired when he stepped into the lobby of Camelot Publishing. He had gotten home about an hour before dawn to get some more sleep, hoping that Prince was out and about and willing to pick up the slack. He had been slightly surprised he hadn't spotted Prince on the roofs. Usually he had gotten a glimpse of the hero before dawn, but there hadn't been a sign of him. Merlin supposed that was good. It meant they had covered different areas and probably been a bit more productive.

Arthur was at the front desk, talking to Gwen, when Merlin approached it. Arthur smiled and said something, and she laughed in response.

"You're looking awful chipper, Arthur, for someone who had to be carried to his bed last night," Merlin remarked, smirking. Arthur glared at him as Gwen began to giggle.  
"I'm perfectly fine, Merlin," Arthur said. Gwen peered out from behind Arthur. Arthur noticed and moved so that Gwen could see Merlin.

"Was he really that drunk?" Gwen asked Merlin.

"Oh, yes. He threw up in the bathroom at the pub, and I had to basically hold him up as I walked him to his car," Merlin said.

"You let him drive?" Gwen asked incredulously.

"Oh, God no. I drove him home and had to help Morgana carry him to his bed," Merlin said. Arthur had sat broodingly to the side while Merlin told the story, but he finally snapped.

"Shut up, Merlin!" he said. Both Merlin and Gwen cracked up.

"I better get up to work, then," Merlin said. He started to turn when Arthur stopped him.

"Er, about that, Merlin," he started. Merlin looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Yes?"

"Someone, I think Leon, told my father about what happened yesterday. I got a call from him this morning. He said he wouldn't stand for that kind of behavior, and you and I have to resolve our conflict," Arthur continued, "so he assigned you as my assistant."

"What?" Merlin yelled. "Your assistant?"

"Yeah," Arthur said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"And no one bothered to notify me? If you're going to make me an assistant at least tell me!" Merlin said furiously.

"You'll still be paid the same, don't worry. You just have to work with me," Arthur explained. Merlin crossed his arms, fuming.

"With you? Don't you mean for you?" he snarled. "That's what assistant means in the basest definition, doesn't it?"

"Merlin, calm down," Gwen broke in quietly. "It wasn't Arthur's decision." Merlin turned to snap at her, but stopped at the look in her eyes. There was a sort of commanding air about her that hadn't been there before. His cheeks flushed as what Gwen said sank in. She was right. It wasn't Arthur's decision; he was being pulled into this too.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"It's fine. I'd be mad too," Arthur said. They stood there awkwardly for a moment.

"So," Merlin said, "I go with you, then?"

"I guess," Arthur shrugged. Merlin followed Arthur to the elevator.

\--

Arthur drove Merlin home. This was kind of strange, at least to Merlin. Arthur said he wanted to make up for the whole thing and Merlin's house was on his way anyways, but Merlin knew otherwise. It was well out of Arthur's way; Merlin had, of course, driven him home the night before. Merlin thanked Arthur for the ride and watched him drive away before heading up to his apartment. It was small; Merlin had a little kitchen and living room and a single bedroom with the bathroom connected to it.

He caught a few more hours of sleep before his alarm woke him at nine. He shut the clock off and sighed.

He put his cloak and mask on and went through the window and onto the top of the building. The last bits of sunlight were disappearing beyond the horizon, and Merlin watched the sky go from orange and pink to blue.

"One of the perks of the job," he muttered. He shot off, using magic to speed him.

\--

Arthur cursed himself for missing the previous night. He hadn't missed a night in a long time. The hangover that morning had been horrible, and he had nearly called in sick, but Morgana had given him some tea that had done wonders. A few minutes after drinking it his headache was nearly gone and his mouth didn't feel like a desert.  
The taste has been strange. When he asked what it was, Morgana had just smiled and said it was her own blend.

It didn't matter anyways. He had been fine for the rest of day and he was ready for the night out. He pulled his suit on and grabbed his sword and daggers from the closet. Arthur looked around his room one last time before nodding and climbing out the window.

\--

They ran into each other in the downtown area. Merlin, on top of the Camelot Publishing building, saw Prince on a retail building nearby. He jumped down the 20 or so feet, bending the air below him to slow and cushion his fall. He also might have done a flip to show off. Possibly.

“Nice tricks, Warlock,” Prince said, grinning. The air had buffeted his hood and alerted him to Warlock’s presence. Warlock stood up from the crouching position he had landed in and brushed himself off.

“I didn’t see you at all yesterday,” he said. “Not that anything really happened anyways.”

“Ah, yes, I wasn’t out last night,” Prince said. “Personal reasons,” he added at the look on Warlock’s face.

“Do you want to patrol together?” Warlock asked. “If we work together we could get things done faster. Spread we cover more area, but it would be slower than together.” Prince shrugged.

“Why not?” he said. He paused and grinned at Warlock. “If you can keep up.” Prince ran across the roof and jumped to the next one. Warlock stood there for a second before shooting off after him. He used a bit of magic to make him faster, and soon he ran parallel to Prince.

“You really think I couldn’t keep up?” he asked. “I was born to run. I have a need for speed.” Prince groaned.

“Really?” he said. Warlock chuckled. They only managed to keep that pace for a few rooftops until they had to slow down to breathe. Warlock bent slightly and put his hands on his knees, panting. Prince leaned against the stairwell entrance on the roof they had stopped on.

“A need for speed? That’s an old movie, buddy,” Prince said.

“Top Gun is a classic!” Warlock replied. “And obviously you’ve seen it, if you know I’m quoting it.”

“You got me there,” Prince laughed. Warlock looked idly over the edge of the building and froze.

“Hey, be quiet,” he hissed at Prince. He crouched at the edge of the roof and motioned for Prince to come. Prince followed him and crouched next to him. They had stopped across the street from the main branch of the Royal Vault banks. A woman dressed in a black dress stood in front of the door, her voice rising in some sort of chant. Something small and white darted around her feet; they couldn’t make out what it was from the distance the were at.

“She’s using magic,” Warlock breathed. Prince turned and stared.

“What is she saying?” he asked. Warlock held up a finger to tell Prince to be quiet. He mouthed the words as she said them, piecing them together slowly.

“…open for me,” Warlock finished in a whisper. “Shit!” The bank door shattered; glass sprayed everywhere. The woman stepped forward through the frame of the door, the white blur following her.

“We need to get down there! Now!” Prince hissed. He swung himself over the ledge and swiftly climbed down the building.

“Be careful!” Warlock said, jumping down himself. “She has magic!” Warlock said when he reached the bottom, Prince close behind. “Powerful magic, too. We don’t know quite what she’s capable of.” Prince stalked past him.

“Yes, but I know she’s doing something, and whatever that is, it’s not good,” he said darkly. He went through the same door that the woman had gone through. Warlock was right behind him. He wouldn’t let his almost-partner go in alone against an unknown.

The bank was silent; the security guard slumped over his desk. Warlock stared at the blood that was pooling around his head. Prince tread lightly to the desk and felt his neck. He grimaced after a second and pulled the head up slightly, revealing the slit throat. Warlock held back a gag, eyes wide with horror. Prince gently lowered the guard back onto the desk and motioned for Warlock to come forward and stand behind him.

“What do you think she wants?” Warlock breathed to Prince. He shrugged and pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for absolute silence. Warlock gave a slight head nod and followed Prince as he padded towards the back of the bank, where the vaults were. Suddenly Prince roughly grabbed Warlock’s arm and pulled him down behind the desk right next to them. Once more he motioned for silence and peeked past the corner.

“She’s using an incantation on the vault,” Prince said to quietly. “The white thing is nowhere to be seen. Can’t you perform countercurses or something?” The thought nearly made Warlock laugh, but then the pressure of the situation trapped and squashed it. Now was not the time to laugh. It was the time to act.

“Countercurses are Harry Potter, you idiot,” Warlock whispered back. “Though I appreciate your taste in books.” Prince lightly cuffed him over the head. “Be that way then,” Warlock grumbled. He peered around the corner of the desk again. The woman suddenly finished her incantation and the vault locks blasted apart.

“Shit!” Prince hissed as the door swung open. “I’ve got to do something! I can’t just sit here.” He stood up, shaking free when Warlock grabbed at his arm and tried to pull him back down. He slid his sword from its sheath, the blade ringing sharply as it pulled free. The woman turned at the noise, and Warlock got his first good look at her. Or, at least, what you could see of her.

She wore a long black lace dress and her hair, pulled back in the front, fell in curls down her shoulders. A mask covered her entire face, black and stiff but adorned with what appeared to be gold inlaying and small jewels. The white blur they had seen earlier shot out from the desk it had been hiding behind and climbed up to curl around her shoulders. It was close enough they could see what it was, and Warlock drew a sharp breath.

It was a young dragon.

Warlock could tell it was young by the squeaks it made and the fact that it was about the size of a medium-sized dog. It cocked its head to the side, studying Prince and Warlock. It looked back at the woman and let out a little squawk. Though they couldn’t see the change in her facial expression, they could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke.  
“So I finally get to meet the famous heroes, Prince and Warlock,” she said. “I’m enchanted.” She made a faux bow, the dragon on her shoulders shifting its balance as she went down and came back up. Prince took a step towards her, sword in a defensive position.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” he asked. “Don’t try anything funny.” The woman snorted and lifted her arms swiftly. A rush of magic swept through the air, picked them both up, and threw them against the wall.

“You may call me Witch, my Prince,” she sneered. “I’m the queen of this town now, and you should just step out of the way and let me do as I wish. This is obviously going to be a battle you cannot win.” Warlock scrambled to his feet and pulled Prince up as well.

“Ic þé wiþdrífe!” Warlock made a pushing gesture, his eyes flashing gold, and Witch was thrown backwards, the dragon leaping from her shoulders and attempting a few feeble flaps before falling back to the ground. “So it hasn’t learned to fly yet,” Warlock mumbled.

Next to him, Prince pulled out a throwing knife and made a well-aimed throw at Witch, who was struggling to stand up. It had nearly reached her when she stopped it in mid-air, turned it around, and launched it back at Prince.

“Culter, ic þe healte.” The dagger stopped and Warlock let it fall to the ground. Prince made a move to pick it up, but Witch quickly pulled it towards her and picked it up.  
“I think I’ll keep this,” she said. She looked at the dragon that had skittered back to her feet. “Aithusa, go get what we came for.” It squeaked and ran into the vault. Loud crashing noises could be heard, metal clanging onto the smooth floors of the vault.

“Where did you get the dragon, Witch?” Warlock asked. “Last I knew, there hadn’t been a dragon sighted since the dark ages.”

“Why should it matter to you, Warlock?” Witch replied. Aithusa scurried out of the vault carrying something in its mouth. “Good girl,” Witch said, stroking the dragon’s back. It arched up into the touch, a purring noise coming from its throat. It stretched its wings out, light glinting off the bright scales.

“Well, I must be off, then,” Witch said. They could hear her grin in her tone.

“I don’t think so,” Prince said. Witch cocked her head to the side.

“I don’t think you can control that, dear,” she said condescendingly. Aithusa curled itself around her neck and she raised her arms above her then snapped them down to her sides with an unintelligible shout. Smoke twisted around her form, obscuring her. Prince leaped forward to grab her, but he passed straight through the smoke cloud. It broke up to reveal she had disappeared.

“Damn,” Prince said, sliding to halt. “Where-“

“No idea,” Warlock said, cutting him off. “The better question is what did she steal?” He entered the vault and surveyed the wreckage. Lock boxes all around the room had been torn out with no pattern. The contents were scattered across the floor, leaving no way to know what had gone in which lock box. It looked like it was meant to hide the evidence. Witch had trained Aithusa well.

Aithusa. A dragon. A fucking dragon. Warlock hadn’t seen anything but pictures of them in books. He’d read loads of storybooks and mythology books and he’d loved every incarnation of the dragon in every culture. His favorite had always been the Western dragons, the ones from the stories about medieval times and knights and princesses. Warlock had never hoped in his life to see an actual dragon. They were thought to be long dead. That changed with the revelation of Aithusa. Maybe, just maybe, there were more out there, and Warlock wasn’t sure to be delighted or frightened by this idea. The best choice would most likely be both.

“We need to get out of here,” Prince called from the vault door. Warlock paused and looked back, realizing the noise of sirens, distant but getting louder. “We don’t want them thinking it was us. I don’t know if anyone is outside, but any security footage running here would show that we are innocent as it is. Let’s go.” Warlock nodded and followed him outside.

The ducked into the alley across the street and began the ascent to the roof. Prince was very straightforward, digging his fingers and boot toes in and scaling it. Warlock pulled off a very videogame-esque movement, jumping up onto the side of the wall, hanging there for a millisecond, and pushing off to the other side of the alley and back again, continuously. He landed and teetered on the edge a moment before stabilizing himself by crouching down and placing a hand on the concrete before him. Prince looked up at him and snorted before concentrating on climbing again.

“What?” Warlock asked, staring down at him.

“Oh, nothing. Spiderman,” Prince said, amusement lightening his tone from the almost growl he’d been using since he saw Witch breaking the glass doors of the bank. Warlock narrowed his eyes in response before the flashed molten gold. Prince was pulled away from the wall and made to hover in the middle of the alley, flailing and scratching at the air.

“Put me down,” he choked out. His eyes were wide and he spun himself around in vain.

“I’m not Spiderman, and while I do love Spiderman, I do not need to be called Spiderman. Kapish?” Warlock lectured. He brought Prince above the hard roof and let him fall. He landed on his hands and knees and stayed crouched there for a moment, white hands clasping the concrete.

“Don’t do that,” he spat. His voice was tinged with hateful venom.

“Aww, were you scared?” Warlock asked, chuckling.

“I don’t know who you are or what you’re like yet, Warlock. I can’t trust you yet. If you pull stunts like that, I never will,” he said. Warlock looked down in chagrin.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Prince immediately loosened up, guilty. He was right, but Warlock was very obviously distressed because of that. He took a step closer and put his arm on Warlock’s shoulder.

“Hey, I shouldn’t have yelled. I am right, though. In our situation, we need to earn each other’s trust,” he said. Warlock smiled and turned his head, looking at the slight lightening of the sky in the west.

“That encounter at the bank took longer than we thought,” he said. “It’s already close to dawn. We should probably, you know, separate.”

“I guess,” Prince rubbed the back of his head. “Do you want to meet near Camelot Publishing again tomorrow? Maybe we’ll actually be able to do some patrolling or something tonight.”

“Or we might deal with our arch-nemesis again,” Warlock said, smirking. Prince stared at him for a second then burst out laughing.

“Oh my god,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye. “She really would be our arch-nemesis, wouldn’t she? The big baddie? Have I landed myself in an action movie?”

“Maybe I teleported you into one,” Warlock said, wiggling his fingers at Prince. “Magic, you know.”

“Spooky, Warlock,” Prince chuckled. “See you tonight.” He began his journey back to wherever he lived. Warlock went in a direction about perpendicular to him.  
Arthur and Merlin arrived back at their houses about the same time, though they wouldn’t have know it.

\--

“Merlin, can you go to the café across the street and get me a coffee?” Arthur groaned as he walked to his office door. Merlin’s desk had been set up near the entrance to Arthur’s office so Arthur could call for him if he needed him. “You should get one for yourself while you’re there.”

“What do you want?” Merlin said, not looking up from the papers scattered in front of him on the desk.

“Black, with just a little cream,” Arthur said. “Here.” He grabbed money from his wallet and shoved it in Merlin’s hands. “Quickly, please.” Merlin sighed and pushed the papers into a pile before standing up.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said. He watched Arthur stumble into his office. “He really does need it,” he muttered.

He caught Lance in the elevator on the way down.

“Hey, Merlin! I heard you’re Arthur’s lackey now,” Lance said, grinning.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Merlin said. “After that little… incident, his father felt that the only way to fix it was to make me Arthur’s assistant. Kind of strange, but you can’t really help that. I heard Uther is pretty tough, so I guess I got off easy.”

“I’ll tell Gwaine you said hi. I have to drop something off to him right now,” Lance said.

“What has he said about it?” Merlin asked.

“He finds the whole thing hilarious,” Lance said. “I’m pretty sure I heard him mention something about you-“ The bell dinged, and they stopped on Gwaine’s floor. “Got to go. Talk to you some other time!” Lance charged out of the elevator before Merlin could ask what Gwaine had said. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know anyways.

He reached the ground floor and crossed the lobby, waving to Gwen along the way.

When Merlin stepped into the café, he was immediately surrounded with warmth and the smell of ground coffee beans. He smiled. This shop was locally owned and not part of a chain, and had some of the best coffee Merlin had ever drank. He was pondering the menu, trying to decide what he wanted, when a copy of the newspaper caught his eye.

 

 

 

  
**Local bank robbed, one dead, local heroes fail to capture the culprit**

Ability of heroes called into question

“What?” he said, surprised. Abilities called into question? If they had seen what had happened, which they must have, seeing as the large cover picture was taken from security footage inside the bank, then they’d have known there was more to the story.  
Merlin marched over and picked up the copy to read the excerpt.

_Albion- The ability of the local “superheroes” has been called into question following incidents last night at Royal Vault Banking and Loans. A women using some kind of sorcery not unlike so-called hero “Warlock’s” broke in even managed to get the vault itself open, killing a guard along the way. She was followed by heroes Warlock and Prince, but they later emerged empty-handed, the woman gone. Are the heroes as good as they’ve seemed to be?_   
_“I assure you, we are looking into what was stolen right now,” bank representative Samuel Lucan said. “The contents of each box are being checked in our database and security footage is being reviewed.”_   
_“I don’t like the heroes,” Police chief Martin Kay said. “Vigilantes, and super-powered ones at that. Superheroes are for movies. This is real life, not some fantasy novel. I don’t think they’ll be heroes for long. I think they’re going to turn on us, on the city. Where will we be then? I don’t like them.”_   
_There has been much speculation about the heroes recently. Some believe that these heroes are good, but others think differently._   
_“They’re going to attract trouble. So-called “heroes” always attract trouble,” Kay insists. Local woman Guinevere Smith disagrees._   
_“We’re not going to get any more trouble than we already have,” she said. “Prince saved me. I believe in him.”_   
_Lucan did not give a stance on the matter._

Merlin snorted and closed the paper. He bought it with the coffee and went back up to the office. Arthur practically moaned when he took a sip.  
“Thank you,” he said. Merlin sipped his own drink and put the paper on the desk.

“They’re bashing the heroes!” he said, slapping the paper down on the desk. Arthur spluttered. “Those guys have done plenty of good! One mess-up should not cause this much trouble.” Arthur leaned in to read the article.

“At least they have one supporter,” Arthur said. Merlin smiled.

“Yeah. Isn’t Gwen that girl from the lobby?” Merlin asked. Arthur frowned.

“Yes, I think her name is Gwen Smith. I wonder what happened to her,” he said. “Merlin, there are still those papers on your desk. Finish them, please?” Merlin walked out of the office, leaving the paper on Arthur’s desk. He picked it up and looked at the cover page. Aithusa was a white blob on Witch’s shoulder. The picture quality wasn’t very good. Arthur stood in front, sword drawn and pointed at Witch. Warlock was behind him, an imposing blue figure on the light backdrop of the bank floor.

Arthur stared at Warlock. Who was he? What did he do during the day? That thing that had happened, when Warlock had been a bit overeager and used his magic on Arthur, had scared Arthur badly. It was one thing for Warlock to say he had magic, another to see it being used, and another completely different thing to have it used on him. Warlock had had complete control over Arthur when he pulled him off that wall. It seemed almost effortless for him, like he was just flicking a fly away. That thought was completely terrifying.

Yet Arthur trusted him. Not all the way, of course, but he still felt as though he was in good company. That scared Arthur too. It was too early for him to trust another person so much in his situation, but trust him he did.

\--

When Merlin woke up from his afternoon nap the only thing he could think of was getting to patrol with Prince again.


	4. Chapter 4

 

_Three months later_

Merlin slapped his alarm and rolled out of bed. Yet another late night out with Prince. He winced as he stood up and brought a hand to his left side. He pulled his shirt up just enough to see the green and yellow bruise blooming on his side. One of those thugs from the attempted corner store robbery must have landed a better hit than he thought.

Merlin was horrible when it came to healing spells. He’d done them before, but they cost a lot of his energy and weren’t all that effective. He didn’t even attempt to do anything to the bruise, putting his shirt down and stretching his arms. He pulled on his work clothes and ran his fingers through his hair, getting rid of the worst of the bedhead. He shrugged on a jacket and headed out the door; he waved at his neighbors as he walked down the stairs.

Merlin stopped at the café near Camelot Publishing and picked up a coffee for himself and Arthur and adding a newspaper and croissant to the tab. He folded the newspaper and stuck it in his pocket, though it stuck out. The tray with the coffees held in his left hand and the bag with the croissant in the right hand made it difficult for him to get through the door; he stuck the bag in his mouth for a second and pulled open the door.

“Morning, Gwen!” Merlin said cheerily, taking the paper bag from his mouth. “Keep up the good work!” She rolled her eyes, but smiled.

“Oh, shut it, Merlin,” she said. “You still on for the party tonight?”

“Yeah, it starts at 7, right?” he asked.

“Yes. Now, get up there and give Arthur his coffee before he bites the head off of some poor secretary,” Gwen jabbed her thumb in the direction of the elevator. Merlin’s mouth split into a wide grin. Arthur was rather cranky until he got his coffee. It really was best that Merlin got up there as soon as possible. He went off to the elevator and stabbed the “up” button with his knuckle.

“Hey, Merlin,” Leon said, walking up behind him.

“Morning, Leon,” Merlin said. The elevator door opened and they stepped inside. Merlin pressed the button for Arthur’s floor; since Leon was on the same floor as Arthur, he made no move to press a different button.

“You have Arthur’s daily dose of caffeine?” Leon asked.

“As usual. Apparently he can’t be bothered to pick up his own, and that leaves me responsible for making sure he’s not a complete idiot and asshole,” Merlin said, shrugging. The elevator slowed to a halt; Leon stepped out into the hallway after Merlin and turned to the left.

“You’re coming tonight, right?” Merlin asked. Leon nodded. “See you then, then!” Merlin hurried off to the right. He got to Arthur’s office and dropped the bag with the croissant and his coffee on the table before opening the door.

“Merlin!” Arthur exclaimed happily. “My coffee!” He reached out and grabbed it from Merlin. Merlin huffed and rolled his eyes.

“You’re welcome,” he muttered as Arthur took a huge gulp.

“Shit, that’s hot!” Arthur cursed. Merlin choked back a laugh and reached over and pointed at the “contents may be hot” label. Arthur glared at him. “Go work on those reports.”

“As you wish, sire,” Merlin said, bowing. He walked to the door and stopped halfway across the threshold, his hand still on the door, and cast a glance back at Arthur. Arthur was shooting daggers with his eyes. Merlin’s eyes twinkled and he closed the door behind him.

Merlin had started calling Arthur “sire” a short time after he became Arthur’s assistant. It annoyed Arthur to no end, and he had told Merlin that, but that only seemed to make Merlin do it more. It had been a normal enough day when he’d started doing it- Merlin had already gotten into the habit of getting coffee for them both and bringing it to Arthur.

_“Here’s your coffee, sire,” Merlin said, putting the cup down in front of Arthur. Arthur looked up from the papers in his hand._

_“What did you just call me?” he asked, brow furrowed in confusion._

_“Nothing. Sire,” Merlin said quickly. A smile spread across his face._

_“Wait, ‘sire’? Really?” Arthur said. “And how the hell did you come up with that?”_

_“Well, you’re basically next in line for ownership for the company, right?” Merlin said. Arthur nodded. “And this company is called Camelot Publishing, right? So you just put two and two together…” Merlin trailed off. Arthur groaned.”It doesn’t help you’re a complete prat as well.”_

_“Oh, shut it Merlin. So I’m prince Arthur of Camelot? Wouldn’t that make you my sorcerer friend Merlin?” he asked._

_“I haven’t got a drop of magic in me, Arthur. Not much of a sorcerer if I don’t have magic,” Merlin replied._

_“Then maybe I can hunt down that Warlock person. He’s supposed to be Mr. Magic, right?” Arthur said._

_“I’ve heard things,” Merlin said. “I don’t know if Warlock would want to be the friend of such an utter prat like you though. Sorry, sire.” Arthur shot Merlin a glare._

_“Back to the original point. Don’t call me sire,” Arthur said. “I think that that is the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard.”_

_“Whatever you say, sire,” Merlin turned and walked out of the office._

Arthur sighed and put his coffee down. There was something about Merlin. He’d thought Merlin looked good that night at Avalon, but it had only gotten worse as he and Merlin worked together in close quarters constantly. Arthur had noticed little things about him as they worked together. The way Merlin’s long, smooth fingers leafed through papers, that little twinkle in his eyes when he called Arthur “sire,” when his hair was all mussed up because he hadn’t been able to smooth it down after he’d woken up. Sometimes there was just the ghost of stubble on his face when he came in, like it had been stubborn and didn’t want to be shaved away. Arthur rubbed his face angrily.

I’m so far gone, he thought. He picked up the file on his desk and opened it.

\--

“Merlin!” Gwen opened the door and gestured for Merlin to come in. “Leon, Arthur, and Morgana are already here, but the rest have yet to arrive.”

“And of course Lance is here,” Merlin teased. Gwen blushed. She and Lance had been dating for two months, and it was ridiculous how adorable they were with each other.

“Of course!” she said. Lance came down the stairs right then and wrapped his arms around her waist smiling and nuzzling into her neck a bit. Gwen swatted him away. “We have guests! Go entertain them!”

“Fine! I’ll just escort Merlin to the rest of the party then, and you can hover anxiously by the door and wait for everyone else to arrive,” Lance said. Gwen raised an eyebrow in warning and Lance quickly put his arm around Merlin’s shoulder and walked him into the living room, where Leon and Arthur were talking about the footie match that was on the television at that moment, and Morgana sat on the couch looking bored.

“I’m telling you, he shoved him!” Arthur said. Leon shook his head.

“No,” Leon said. “That was an accident.”

“Bullshit. I call bullshit on that,” Arthur growled.

“So how’s the game?” Merlin broke in. They both turned on him, eyebrows raised.

“What do you think, Merlin?” Arthur said. “Obviously the ref is a complete-“

“Let’s turn the game off, don’t you think?” Lance picked up the remote and both Arthur and Leon threw him horrified looks. Lance smirked and put it back down. “Now, how is your evening going, Merlin?”

"Quite well, Lance," Merlin replied, smothering laughter.

"Where is everyone else?" Arthur asked. The doorbell rang as if to answer him. Merlin heard the door open in the hall and Gwen welcoming someone in.

"Elena, Mithian, how nice to see you! Are Percival and Gwaine behind you?" Gwen ushered the two women into the living room. Percival trailed behind, shutting the door after him. Gwen rushed past Lance into the kitchen to check the roast in the oven.

“Don't worry, we have arrived," Gwaine said, flipping his hair dramatically. Percival grinned. Gwen came back into the room.

"Dinner's ready!" she said, smiling. Everyone filed into the dining room. The smell was heavenly, and Merlin took a deep breath, attempting to absorb it. A roast sat in the middle of the round table, with various vegetable and side dishes circling around it. The room itself was warm and inviting, glowing with a soft orange light. Everyone pulled out a chair and sat down. Lance and Gwen sat next to each other. Morgana was to Lance's left, with Leon to her left. Elena and Mithian sat next to Gwen and Gwaine settled himself in between Elena and Percival. Arthur and Merlin sat between Leon and Percival. Gwen beamed around the table. Lance stood up.

"It's great to have you all here," he began. "We've become the best of friends in these past few months, and Gwen and I have become, in Morgana's words, a "disgustingly adorable" couple. Which is why," he paused, looking down at Gwen, who nodded, "we wanted to announce our engagement." Gwen lifted her hand above the table where everyone could see the light glinting off of the silver ring on her finger.

Applause broke out; Merlin heard Arthur mutter a gruff, "Finally!" beside him and giggled.

"Can we eat now?" Gwaine asked. Percival elbowed him in the side, but Gwen just laughed.

"Yes, dig in," she said. Everyone fell onto the food. There wasn't much talking as they ate. Soon everyone sat back; Gwaine audibly sighed and made a show of loosening his belt.

"You're obnoxious," Arthur told him, laughing.

"And?" Gwaine grinned.

They drifted back into the living room, perching on the couches and chatting amiably. Morgana excused herself; she had some paperwork to finish up at home. The TV was a buzz in the background. Merlin was just talking to Arthur when he glanced past him and saw the news. His focus shifted noticeably; Arthur turned to see what he was looking at. There was live feed from the road by the pub, Avalon. People were screaming and running from something. The reporter was trying to talk, but the studio was only recieving static. The background of the feed came into focus and Arthur watched as a section of pavement was lifted into the air before being dropped back to the ground and smashing into chunks. A woman in a black dress stood unharmed in the middle of the section, a small white animal perched on her shoulder.

Witch! Arthur thought. Sound finally came through. The on-site reporter was talking about the path of destruction.

"She started on Tower Road and has been quickly moving towards the town square," she said. It cut out again.

"Tower Road?" Merlin looked paniced. "My uncle lives above his shop on Tower!" He stood up. "I've got to go."

"No, Merlin, you need to stay here. You don't know which way she's going to take to the town square," Gwen grabbed his arm. Merlin pulled away.

"I'll be fine. I need to check on him," he said firmly.

"I'll go with him," Arthur said. Merlin shook his head. "Merlin, I'm going whether you like it or not."

"Arthur, I'm not letting you come. I don't want to put you in danger," he said. "Now, I've got to go. Don't even think about trying to come with me." He pulled his coat on and went out the door. It closed loudly behind him, leaving silence. Everyone looked at each other.

"Well," Arthur clapped his hands on his knees before standing up. "I'm going to make sure he doesn't get killed."

"Arthur-" Gwen started to speak.

"He won't even know I'm there, I promise," Arthur said, cutting her off. He tugged on his coat and walked out the door. He drove his car down the road and turned into an empty alley and parked. He pulled his costume out from under the driver's seat and quickly put it on, swearing quietly when his foot got caught in the leg of the pants. He slid out of the car and opened the trunk and the secret compartment in the trunk and pulled out his weapons, strapping them on his belt.

Fully dressed and armed, Arthur, now Prince, climbed to the roof and headed towards Avalon. He reached it in a few minutes and wondered if maybe he did have powers because he had just gone two miles in four minutes, but reconsidered when he had to bend over and take a minute to be able to breathe properly. He took comfort in the fact that he had probably at least broken some speed and endurance record. Witch had left this street, but Prince could see that she was only one street other, and- thank god- Warlock was just arriving there as well.

When he got his breath back, he hopped across the last few rooftops and scaled down the wall. Warlock stood in the middle of the street, slingshotting all of the rubble thrown at him around and back at Witch. She cackled and directed the reflected rubble towards the ground and lifted more debris and shot it towards Warlock.

“Hello, Prince,” she said, pausing her assault. “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry, had to stop and gas up the batmobile,” he replied, grinning.

“Hey, bad humor is my thing!” Warlock said indignantly.

“Shut up, both of you,” Witch growled. She flicked her wrists and Prince felt himself being lifted and thrown backward. He hit the ground hard; sitting up dazedly, he saw Warlock had blocked the attack before he was launched back. He was now throwing what looked like bolts of lightning at her chest. A golden shield glinted in front of her and the bolts just skittered off the surface. Prince clambered to his feet and drew his sword.

“Warlock, cover me!” he yelled as he charged forward. A shield not unlike the one protecting Witch appeared around him. Witch’s eyes glowed as she opened cracks in the pavement in Prince’s route, but Prince leapt over them and kept running.

“Aithusa!” she hissed. “Get Warlock!” The little white dragon jumped from its perch on Witch’s shoulder and darted towards Warlock. Though she was small, she had vicious claws and teeth, and Prince flinched as he saw it prepare to take a running leap-

Warlock opened his mouth and a low, guttural noise came out, causing Aithusa to skid to a halt and Prince to pause at the mouth of the crack he had been about to jump. Even the light in Witch’s eyes faded. Prince stared in wonder as Aithusa cowered under Warlock’s strange noises, almost as if he were listening to Warlock... scold him?

“How are you doing that?” Witch asked. There was cold fury visible in her eyes even from where Prince stood. Aithusa walked meekly over to Warlock’s side and hung her head. “Aithusa, to me!” Aithusa attempted to step towards Witch, but Warlock held out his hand as if heeling a dog, and she stopped.

“How- how dare you!” Witch spluttered. “Let her go!” Aithusa squeaked, but remained where she was. “NOW!” Witch’s eyes lit up gold once again, and the ground beneath their feet began to shake. Prince struggled to stay standing. More cracks split the pavement, forming a web with Witch at its center. Witch began floating up into the air, a faint glow encasing her form. Prince stood frozen to the spot, only noticing Warlock near him when Warlock grabbed his arm and pulled. He spun around and found himself almost nose-to-nose with Warlock. He quickly took a step back before remembering the gaping crack behind him. His foot slipped from the ledge and he began to fall back. His arms began pinwheeling in panic, and he saw a flash from Warlock’s eyes and an invisible hand pushing him back up from behind. Warlock stepped to the side as Prince stumbled forward and rested his hands on his knees.

“Thanks,” he gasped. He looked up, noticing Aithusa perched angrily on Warlock’s shoulder. “Oh?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No time to explain. We need to go,” Warlock said, glancing over at Witch.

“But the people in the buildings-”

“They’re all empty. I ran a sweep with my magic. She’s wearing herself out. Go!” Warlock pushed Prince forward and he ran, feeling Warlock’s presence close behind. They ran down the block and turned right, then turned left at the next intersection. There was a dark alley halfway down that street; they ducked into it.

Warlock reached up to stroke Aithusa’s head. Aithusa bared her teeth and growled as if to nip him, but Warlock didn’t hesitate and ran his hand over the smooth scales. Aithusa tensed at first, but soon began to lean into the touch. Prince watched in awe.

“How?” he asked.

“I’m a dragon lord. A gift from my father’s side,” he said grimly. “I got it after he died.” Prince pursed his lips.

“Well,” he started, licking his lips, “I will admit that, while it is extremely scary, that was pretty cool. Sorry, you know, about your dad and all.” Warlock shrugged.

“Don’t be sorry. I never really knew him. I got to talk to him for a total of five hours before he died,” he said.

“Are you sure she’s done for now?” Prince asked.

“Yes, I am,” Warlock replied, tickling Aithusa’s chin. “She expanded all her energy in that little fit. She’s still angry and will definitely want to kill me for taking her dragon, but she’ll be too tired to do anything about it tonight.”

“Why didn’t she come after us? Why did she just make everything explode?”

“Once she opened the floodgates of her power, she had no control. That’s beyond her ability at this point in time. No telling about the future,” he added, grimacing. “Now, I have a dragon to take care of. See you around.” He floated himself up onto the roof and disappeared from sight. Prince began the trudge back to his car.

\--

Merlin stared at the dragon on his bed. What the hell was he going to do with a dragon? Aithusa squeaked almost endearingly.

“Oh, shut up,” Merlin said without any real venom, throwing a pillow at her. She jumped to meet it, tackled it to the ground, and began to rip it to shreds.

“Oi!” Merlin exclaimed, pulling her off of it. It was too late, though; stuffing lay scattered over the carpet. “Thanks, I really needed that. You know, I can’t leave you in my apartment all day as a dragon. What if someone comes over? Plus a dragon in my apartment would just be a bad idea in general.” Aithusa blinked at him. “What if I turned you into a cat?” Aithusa cocked her head to the side as if to say,  _Really? Are you serious?_

“Yes, I am serious. I’m going to turn you into a cat. Let me check my spellbook. Don’t destroy anything,” he added. “And stay in the apartment. I forbid you from leaving at any time. You’re not permitted to leave, or go back to Witch, or scare the neighbors.”

Merlin pulled the huge tome of spells out of the box under his bed and flipped through it.

“No, no, no, ah,” he muttered. “Transfiguration.” He placed his finger on the page and ran it down over the ancient runes slowly, skimming, trying to find the spell he need. “There.” He pronounced the strange words, and Aithusa sprouted hair and shrank to the size of a kitten. It’s indignant squeak was changed into a mew as it shrank. Merlin laughed.

“Aw, you’re just a cute little fluffball, aren’t you?” he picked up the dragon, which was now hissing and spitting. He stroked her white fur, and the kitten stopped hissing and purred. “Damn, now I have to get you food. I’ll do that after work, I guess. Speaking of work,” Merlin put Aithusa down, who meowed in protest, “I’m going to get a bit of sleep so I can be functional tomorrow. I should probably call Arthur and the others and tell them I’m fine, too.” He made a couple of quick phone calls, reassuring Gwen he was fine (“No, I wasn’t nearly killed by Witch. She was long gone by the time I got to Gauis’ shop. He’s fine, too. Slept through the whole thing.”) and telling Arthur that he might be there a little late in the morning, on account of the fact he picked up a stray and needed to make sure she was going to be fine while he was at work. Arthur sounded wide awake, as though he hadn’t gone home or slept since the party, even though it was two in the morning.

“I will be at work, don’t worry,” Merlin said. “I’ve got to go, I need to sleep. Good night, Arthur.” He clicked the end call button huffily. “Prat,” he muttered. He slipped on an old t-shirt and stripped to his boxers before crawling under the covers and falling asleep, Aithusa curled up at the foot of the bed and purring.

\--

He groaned when the alarm went off the next morning. Aithusa jumped and scampered up onto his chest, ears flat to her head and mewling. He shoved her off, despite the tiny, sharp claws she was digging into his skin.

“Get off, it’s just the alarm,” he said, slapping the ‘off’ button and silencing it. He pushed the covers from his body and sat up, rubbing his face and feeling the stubble on his chin. He took a quick shower and got in his work clothes.

“Now,” he looked at Aithusa, who was sitting on his couch and trying her best to look innocent, “you will not leave this apartment. You will not try to signal Witch in any way. You will stay in here and entertain yourself. You will not, however, eat or destroy my possessions in any way. You can play with this.” He conjured a small ball out of the air and threw it to her. “I’ll get you food and other stuff to keep you busy when I come back from work. See you this afternoon. Don’t get into trouble.” He straightened his tie and left the apartment.

\--

Merlin wasn’t late at all like he’d thought he be, and Arthur was relieved to get his customary cup of coffee.

“So, you picked up a stray last night?” he said, taking a sip.

“There was a kitten lying in the street. No one was around. I grabbed her and took her back to my place,” Merlin explained. “She’s there now, probably playing with the ball I had on hand. I’m going to have to get food and toys for her on my way home from work.”

“You plan on keeping her?” Arthur snorted.

“I do! She’s really sweet and I’ve wanted a pet. Besides,” Merlin said, “I can’t exactly get rid of her anyway. My lease allows pets, at least.”

“You can’t get rid of her? Haven’t you heard of a shelter, Merlin?” Arthur asked. Merlin wrinkled his nose. Arthur thought for a moment how extremely cute that looked, but blinked and focused on what Merlin was saying again.

“I’d rather not. I don’t like shelters, much, even no-kill shelters,” he said.

“Whatever, Merlin. So, what was the wreckage like?” Arthur asked casually, as though he hadn’t been there and been fighting the woman who’d done it.

“It was pretty bad. The pavement was torn up and there was damage to the buildings everywhere,” Merlin said. “I’ve got paperwork to do, so I’m going to get on that, then. Lunch break together?” Arthur smiled.

“Sure,” he looked down at the files on his desk and started working again.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

 

Morgana had woken up and immediately taken an aspirin to combat the pain in her head, but it was taking its sweet time working. She sat up, her movements noticeably languid. She looked over to check on Aithusa before remembering the events of the previous night. A spike of pain wedged itself in her brain and shoved deeper the angrier she got. Magic crackled at her fingers but died as the pain became almost agonizing. It calmed down when she stopped reaching for the well of power.

Those bastards had taken Aithusa.

Aithusa, her almost constant companion and pet, was gone, taken by the people who called themselves heroes. She despised them. Not that she hadn’t hated them before, of course, but it had been more of a game then, a little play to entertain her. Taking Aithusa from her was low, though, and she wanted her back.

Morgana didn’t really have a reason to become Witch. Something about finding out how to use the powers she’d uncovered in herself, and finding this creature that she had read about in myth and legend had made her want. Want what, though? Power? Money? She wasn’t sure, herself. She just wanted, and the best way to stop wanting was to get. So that’s what she’d done.

And now Aithusa was gone, and Morgana knew what she wanted. She wanted Aithusa back and those do-gooders writhing on the ground in pain, unable to help themselves.

But how to go about that?

She could confront them on patrol. She knew that that was what they did at night. They patrolled the city and stopped petty crime, occasionally tackling bigger prey like her. Not that there was anyone else in the city even close to being as big of prey as she was. She was like a tiger; every other “big boss bad guy” was a house cat.

Confronting them, Morgana thought, would be too boring. Not only that, but she couldn’t guarantee that she’d get Aithusa back. The only way she would get Aithusa back is if she figured out where Warlock was keeping her- and he wouldn’t admit that willingly, especially not if he was keeping her in his home.

What if she figured out who Warlock was and lured them into a trap? She could kill them there and then go back to where Aithusa was and fetch her. The more Morgana thought of this plan, the more she liked it. She needed to find a way to follow Warlock without him noticing though.

“Maybe an ‘unnoticeable’ charm?” she mumbled to herself. “I could check my spellbook.” She went to her walk-in closet and pulled a knob in the back of a drawer. A small section of the wall slid away to reveal a safe. Morgana spun the combination lock and opened it up, grabbing the ancient tome and blowing dust off of it.

It was the thing she had stolen from the bank, a volume of spells that dated back to pre-Arthurian times. She reverently ran her hand down the spine of the book and flipped it open. She leafed through the pages, scanning each one, until the word she was looking for caught her eye.

“Unnoticeable,” she murmured. She committed the incantation to mind, but didn’t attempt it, not wanting to experience the stab of pain when she reached for her magic. She put the book away and went to the kitchen to make herbal tea.

\--

Morgana left later that night, waiting until she felt well enough to not only perform the charm, but to get away quickly should it fail. It didn’t take her long to pinpoint Warlock’s location. He was on top of Camelot Publishing, staring out over the city. She smirked at the fact that of all the places to be, he was on top of the building where Arthur worked. She performed the unnoticeable charm, prayed to the gods that it worked against Warlock, and crept up about 5 yards behind him.

Prince arrived, and Morgana watched as Warlock used magic to float them both down the building. She let out a soft whistle as she followed them, impressed. That was powerful magic. The fact that Warlock could do that so easily was almost scary.

Watching them ziptie thugs in alleys all night was a fairly boring endeavor, and occasionally she would send glowing bubbles down to the criminals after the heroes had left that would pop in their face and temporarily blind them. It was all in good fun, really, and it helped stave off insanity.

Finally light began to leak into the sky, and Warlock and Prince parted ways on a rooftop near the bank she had been robbing when they first met her.

She tailed Warlock back to an apartment surprisingly close to Camelot Publishing. She thought nothing of it, though, until she watched him climb into apartment and pull down his hood. His hair was eerily familiar, but it didn’t click until he turned around and took off his mask.

“Merlin?” She ducked behind the low wall running along the top of the building across from Merlin’s apartment. “Seriously, Merlin?” She looked back at the window and saw Merlin petting a white kitten, and she knew- she didn’t know how she knew, she just felt it- that the kitten was Aithusa.

“Well, this is an interesting development,” she muttered. She spared the window Merlin’s apartment one last glance- Aithusa, the traitor, was curling up to doze on Merlin’s bed- and headed back to her own home to make a plan.

\--

Merlin always smiled at the expression on Arthur’s face when he handed him his coffee. It was a look of pure elation; Merlin was sure there was adoration for him there too, for his services in bringing Arthur his “golden nectar,” as he called it. Merlin brought him coffee every day just to see the expression on Arthur’s face.

He headed home happily.

\--

“Shit.” Merlin stared at the snapped lock on the door. How had someone broken in? He’d set enchantments to protect the door. There was no way, unless-

Fuck.

He pushed the door open. Whoever had broken in had magic, and there was only one person he knew of who had magic. How had Witch found out who he was? He’d had a slight feeling of being watched the night before, but he’d chalked that up to superhero paranoia. Maybe it hadn’t been.

Aithusa ran out of the kitchen. Merlin breathed a sigh of relief. Witch hadn’t been able to break Aithusa’s bond to the house, then.

He noticed the note on the counter. He walked over slowly and picked it up, hands trembling, and read the light, elegant handwriting.

 

 

There was an address, about a 15 minute walk, on the bottom of the note. Merlin dropped it and sank to his knees.

“Gaius,” he moaned. It was all his fault, and he knew it. He had known it would be risky when he had decided to help people with his powers, but he hadn’t expected anyone to find him out, let alone use his family against him, so soon. He had thought he would be in the clear for longer. Now Gaius was in trouble because of him.

He leaned back against the counter. Aithusa crawled onto his lap and curled up. He stroked her head.

“I messed up, didn’t I?” he asked her. She mewed. “And now I need to fix it.” He went to his bed, pulled out the spellbook, and began to review.

\--

At 11:15 P.M. he put the book away and put on his cloak. The blue material was dark against the pale skin of his neck. He slipped the mask on and pulled the hood over his head. Aithusa stood at his feet, and Merlin muttered the transfiguration spell. The fur hardened and stuck together, turning into smooth scales. She grew back to her normal size; she trilled excitedly when her wings came back, giving them a test flap. Merlin motioned for her to climb onto his shoulder and she clambered up, her claws poking him as she settled there.

He checked the window to make sure the street was empty and floated himself up onto the roof. Aithusa chirped and curled herself around Merlin’s neck. He wasn’t sure why, but in the two days he had had her, she had come to really like him. He suspected it had to do with him being a dragon lord. Surely the fact that he had stolen her from someone who obviously cared for her would negate that? It didn’t matter, though, and he hoped that she would go when the time came, if only to save his uncle.

He checked his watch. It was 30 minutes until midnight. He hoped Prince would be able to take care of the city in his absence; he had to save Gaius, no matter what.

“Warlock!” Merlin sighed as he heard the familiar cry. Speak of the devil, and the devil shall come. He turned around.

“Prince,” he nodded.

“You didn’t meet me on the top of Camelot,” Prince said shortly, crossing his arms, “and you’re not in your usual area.”

“I’m busy. I have somewhere to be,” Merlin replied. “I need to go.”

“Why the rush, Warlock? I thought we were supposed to be helping the city, not running off for so-called important meetings?” Prince asked. “And why in hell’s name would you bring Aithusa with you?” Merlin looked away, trying to hide the tears pooling in his eyes. He was supposed to be a hero, and he couldn’t even keep his family safe. Now he was abandoning the city to deal with his personal problems.

Prince saw the look in Merlin’s eyes and pulled his face around tenderly. Merlin shivered at the feeling of the hand on his cheek. Prince stared into his eyes for a minute, frowning.

“Your eyes,” he said. “They’re familiar.” Merlin felt a flash of panic. Two people who knew who he was? Even if Prince was a hero, his secret identity was meant to be just that: secret.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ve never met,” he said dismissively. “It’s a big city.”

“Right, right. Now, what’s the problem?” Prince asked. Merlin hesitated for a moment.

“Witch found out who I was,” he finally mumbled. “She’s kidnapped my uncle.” He shifted his gaze downwards.

“What? How? Even I don’t know who you are!” Prince exclaimed.

“I don’t know, Prince. It’s possible she was watching us last night. She told me to bring Aithusa to her at midnight, though,” Merlin said.

“I’m going with you.” Merlin looked up at Prince.

“No.”

“Yes. You can’t stop me.”

“My uncle is in trouble, and it’s my fault. I have to take care of this myself.” Prince shook his head firmly.

“I’m going.”

“No, you-”

“I’m going, end of story,” he said, putting his hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “You’re my friend, whether I know your name or not. We’re in this together.”

“Thank you,” Merlin whispered.

“Now, where are we going?” Prince asked. Merlin held out the bottom of the note, which he had torn off and put in his pocket in case he forgot which warehouse. Prince read the address. “Let’s go.” They began the trek from the rooftop with 20 minutes until midnight.

\--

It was 11:55 P.M., and they found themselves scoping out the warehouse. Merlin reached out with his magic. There were no blocking enchantments, no enchantments at all that he could feel. He could, however, feel the presence of two people, presumably Witch and Gaius.

Prince looked at Merlin and motioned with two fingers to them, then the side door. Merlin cocked his head in confusion. Prince rubbed his forehead and sighed.

“We’ll go in through that door,” he whispered.

“Oh,” Merlin said.

“Honestly, it wasn’t that complex of a hand gesture!” Prince said.

“Oh, shut up, clotpole,” Merlin quipped.

“What the hell is a clotpole?”

“Can we please just go in?”

“Right,” Prince said, growing somber. Prince unsheathed his sword, and they quietly pulled open the heavy door. Merlin slipped in first, with Prince right behind. They walked in between the rows, treading as lightly as they could. Merlin saw an open area close by with a bright light shining there. He cautiously crept forward into the circle of light and saw Gaius sitting at the other end, tied to a chair and duct tape over his mouth. Witch stood behind him, hand on his shoulder.

“So, the great Warlock shows up, and he brings a friend,” Witch said mockingly, breaking the silence.

“I chose to come. He’s my friend,” Prince said, stepping forward.

“Do you even know who he really is? He’s a nobody, a secretary for Camelot Publishing,” she said, sneering.

“Camelot Publishing? Really?” Prince said, evidently surprised.

“Just give me my uncle back, Witch, and I’ll give you Aithusa,” Merlin said, stepping in front of Prince.

“You want Gaius back? I’m not sure I want to let him go yet, though,” she said. She ran her hand up Gaius’ arm before digging her fingernails into his shoulder. Gaius winced.

“Stop!” Merlin said. Witch chuckled.

“Oh, calm down, Merlin,” she said. Merlin glared at her as she pushed a stray hair behind Gaius’ ear. “You know, I never would have guessed that you would be Mr. Magic, hero of Albion. You seemed like the quiet, unassuming type. I guess your name could have tipped me off, though. Merlin, sorcerer in the court of King Arthur of Camelot. You even work with Arthur Pendragon! How funny.”

“Merlin?” Prince asked hoarsely, having finally found his voice. “You’ve got to be joking. Merlin?”

“Oh, do you know him, Prince?” Witch asked.

“Of course I bloody know him; he’s my-” he coughed. “I mean, I’ve seen him in the office. Because I, ah, work there too. And everyone heard what happened with Arthur Pendragon.” Witch looked at them curiously.

“Just give me Gaius, please,” Merlin begged. “Aithusa, you can go to Witch.” Aithusa looked at him and climbed down unhappily. She got halfway across the circle to Witch before stopping and looking back at him. Merlin watched her sadly. “Go on.”

“Aithusa, come here,” Witch cooed. Aithusa looked at them both and sat down where she stood. “What did you do to her?” Witch looked at Merlin. “Whatever spell you cast to make her do that, undo it immediately.”

“I didn’t cast a spell on her,” Merlin said, putting his hands up defensively. “I swear!”

“And you expect me to take your word? You, you-” she screamed, her eyes flashing gold, and Merlin flew through the air and into a shelf. He slumped to the floor, blood dribbling out of the corner of his mouth, clinging to consciousness.

“No!” Prince yelled. He charged forward, sword raised. Just as he was about to swing his sword, she used magic to fling it away. He tried to stop, but forward momentum kept him going straight onto the dagger Witch had taken out and held in front of her. It sank deep into the flesh of his belly. He let out a huff and fell to the ground next to Gaius’ chair.

Witch ran to Aithusa and attempted to pick her up, but Aithusa snapped at her hand and hissed.

“Aithusa-” she pleaded. Aithusa ran towards Merlin. Witch stood up and brushed herself off. “Fine,” she hissed. “Leave me. But don’t think you can come back anytime you want.” There was a flash, and Witch was gone.

Merlin finally managed to pull himself up, using the shelf to support him. Aithusa stretched her neck under his hand and he stroked her. He stumbled over to Gaius’ chair and tentatively used his magic to snap the ropes and tear the duct tape off his face.

“Merlin, is that really you?” Gaius asked. Merlin sighed.

“Yes. I-I’ll explain later. Take Aithusa and go,” Merlin replied. Gaius nodded, seeing the look on Merlin’s face, and allowed Aithusa to crawl up onto his shoulders. “Make sure he isn’t hurt on his way home, Aithusa,” Merlin told the dragon. She chirped. Gaius hurried from the warehouse.

Merlin dropped to his knees next to Prince.

“You idiot,” he whispered, cradling Prince’s head in his lap. “You stupid, stupid idiot.” Prince cracked a faint smile.

“You know, I agree with Witch,” he said hoarsely. “You were probably the last person I would have thought was Warlock.”

“You can’t have known me too well,” Merlin said, cutting the fabric around Prince’s wound with magic and peeling it off. The once-silver cloth was stained red with blood. “You’ve only seen me around the office.” He examined the wound; it was deep, and fatal if it weren’t treated soon.

“About that,” Prince said before coughing, the motion causing him to wince. “I kind of lied. I know you fairly well. And I’ve kind of liked you ever since you spilled your damn drink all over my nice shirt.” Merlin glanced sharply up at his eyes. Prince grinned.

“What?” His heart pounded. It wasn’t possible.

“I knew I was fucked when Uther made you my assistant,” Prince continued. “You want to know what sucks about dying, Merlin?”

“You’re not dying, Prince. I won’t let you,” Merlin said.

“I know a fatal wound when I see one, Merlin. Don’t-” he coughed, “Don’t try to lie to me. Unless we were sitting outside a hospital, I’m done for.”

“No, Prince-”

“Shut up. And drop the Prince. You know it’s me now,” Prince- no, Arthur- said. Merlin’s throat was dry.

“Ar-arthur,” Merlin said, swallowing.

“Yeah. You want to know what sucks about dying? I never even got to kiss you like I wanted to.” Merlin choked back a sob.

“Gods, Arthur,” he said. “You’re such an idiot. Did you really think I brought you coffee every day because you told me to?”

“I kind of assumed that, seeing as you were my assistant and were supposed to do what I told you to do,” Arthur said. He tried to shrug and winced at the stab of pain it caused.

“Arthur, you’re so oblivious,” Merlin said, placing his hands on the sides of Arthur’s head. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Arthur’s. Arthur stayed tense under his mouth for a second before responding with a soft press. Merlin pulled away and placed his forehead against Arthur’s. Arthur smiled and closed his eyes. Merlin attempted to hold back the sob, but it came anyways and brought tears. They slipped down his cheeks and onto Arthur’s face.

“No,” he whispered. He squeezed Arthur’s head slightly. “No!” He let out another choking sob and wrapped his arms around Arthur. His magic rose in him, golden tendrils of light curling around the both of them, seeking out Arthur’s wound and swirling around it. “NO!” There was a flash of light, and they both disappeared.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

 

 

Everything was fuzzy. Arthur opened his eyes, the world a blur of indistinct, colorless shadows. The most he could make out was the brightness of the room, and the dark shadow slumped in the corner. He blinked a few times, the world coming into focus. Merlin turned out to be the shadow in the corner, having fallen asleep in the chair near Arthur’s bed. He tried to move, to sit up, but sharp pain shot through his stomach and he fell back onto the bed. For the first time he noticed the beeping coming from next to him, and he turned his head to see the machine that was monitoring his heartbeat.

So he was in a hospital.

Why, though? Arthur strained to remember. It was a jumble; he remembered meeting Warlock on the rooftop and going to the warehouse to get Warlock’s uncle back, and-

Oh.

Merlin. Warlock was Merlin.

He turned back towards Merlin. He dozed on, looking soft and vulnerable. Arthur smiled.

Merlin being Warlock was not a plot twist he had been expecting; he supposed that was why the called it a plot twist. Merlin, the adorable, clumsy man who brought him coffee every morning and discussed the paper with him was the snappy, funny hero who helped him bring down criminals in the city at night. Not to mention that he had, you know, magic. A nurse came in to check on him and smiled when she saw he was awake.

“You’ve joined the land of the living again!” she said. “You were iffy there for awhile, you know. It’s a good thing Mr. Emrys over there managed to get you in so quickly. If he hadn’t, then wouldn’t be here. They haven’t found the mugger that got you, yet.”

“Mugger?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah, some nasty man in an alley grabbed you and tried to steal your wallet; don’t you remember?” the nurse said. “When you resisted he pulled a knife on you. Got you good, too, but didn’t take anything because Merlin showed up and scared him off. He took you here, too, and has been with you for the past two days.”

“Two days? Really?” Arthur said, shocked.

“Two days,” she said, nodding. “He’s hardly gotten any sleep, waiting for you to wake up. And now he’s missed it. I’d wake him, but I think he needs to sleep.” Arthur nodded, and she checked his IV and monitor and left.

Arthur could hardly believe he had been out for two days. Nearly dying does that, he guessed. His heart warmed when he thought of Merlin being there for two days.

Merlin began to stir in the corner, and he watched as Merlin opened his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. It got all mussed up, random pieces sticking up in different directions. He looked up and locked eyes with Arthur.

“You’re awake!” he said. “Thank the gods.” Arthur smiled.

“Yeah, you have to deal with me again, Emrys,” he said. “Don’t think you’re going to get time off or anything. In fact, I heard you’ve been shirking work for two days. What have you got to say for yourself?”

“I had to make sure some stupid prat didn’t die on me,” Merlin replied.”I don’t know if I could bear losing him,” he added softly. Arthur stared at him for a minute.

“Well, I bet he was really glad that you were the first person he saw when he woke up, even if you weren’t the first person to talk to him,” he said. Merlin stood up- Arthur noticed he was shaking ever so slightly- and walked over and wrapped his arms around Arthur as best as he could without hurting him. Arthur hesitated before reaching up and returning the hug, pulling Merlin as close to him as he could, ignoring the pain as Merlin pressed against him.

Merlin must have noticed him wince slightly, though, because he pulled back with a concerned look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Arthur waved his hand to signal he was fine. “No, not just that, not just right now. I’m sorry for dragging you into this.” Arthur raised an eyebrow, confused.

“This?” he asked.

“This,” Merlin replied. “All… this.” He motioned to the room. “You came with me and you got hurt.”

“You didn’t make me. In fact, _Mer_ lin, I refused all attempts of yours to make me stay,” Arthur said. “By the way, how is Gauis?”

“He’s shaken, but fine,” Merlin said. “He had a few cuts, but I healed those easily. Then I had to explain what happened and why he had to take care of a dragon for me for a little bit.” Arthur grinned.

“Aithusa refused to go with Witch?” he asked. “What did you do to the thing?”

“Absolutely nothing!” Merlin said. “It might be the fact that I’m a dragonlord, but I’m really not sure.”

There was a slight tap on the door and they both looked over at it. The knob turned and Morgana walked through. Seeing Arthur was awake, she smiled and rushed to his bedside.

“Arthur! You’re awake!” she said. She leaned over and hugged him tightly.

“Ow, ow, crushing my ribs, I’m sure this isn’t good for my wound, please, just, stop,” he choked out. She relinquished her grip and slid her hands up his arms before grabbing his hands.

“You had me so damn worried, Arthur,” she said. “Why were you out alone in the middle of the night? You were dressed in your work clothes when Merlin found you. You realize how nice a target that made you seem?” Her voice was fraught with worry; a frown tugged down the corners of her mouth.

“It was kind of stupid of me, wasn’t it?” Arthur said. “I’m fine now, though, Morgana.” Merlin cleared his throat.

“Uh. I’m going to, uh,” he pointed towards the door, “go now. Ok? Yeah. Bye, Arthur.” He walked around the bed and out the door.

“He’s been here the whole time, you know,” Morgana said, smirking. The sudden shift in her mood surprised Arthur.

“I was, in fact, aware of that,” he replied. “Why do you mention it? And what happened to being worried?”

“I still am worried, Arthur, but I always am. I mention it because I know you like him,” she finished. Arthur choked.

“And what gave you that impression?!” he sputtered. Morgana rolled her eyes.

“Maybe the fact that you’ve been mooning over him since he started working with you, or the fact that the first day you met him and went to the pub with him you slurred drunkenly to me, ‘I like Merlin,’ before passing out? I don’t know, Arthur. A lot of things gave me that impression,” she said.

“You utterly ridiculous- I did not say that! And I haven’t been ‘mooning over him,’ Morgana. God,” he said. Morgana cuffed him lightly in the side of the head.

“Give it up,” she said. He sighed.

“Yeah, I do,” he said.

“And he likes you,” Morgana said, grinning.

“Which is lucky for me,” Arthur replied.

“Yes, because otherwise you would have never made a move and you’d just keep mooning, you lump,” she said.

“Oh, shut up. What kind of insult is ‘lump’ anyways?” he asked.

“My kind of insult,” Morgana said, laughing.

“You’re such an idiot,” Arthur sighed.

\--

Morgana bumped into Merlin on her way out of Arthur’s hospital room. He tripped and nearly dropped his coffee, apologizing to her. She forced a smile and calmed him, saying it was “an accident” and “my fault anyways.” He smiled gratefully and went into Arthur’s room. Morgana’s face twisted into a grimace as she walked down the hall.

 _Dragon thief_ , she thought. _I can’t believe Arthur’s been working with him, mooning over him even._

Her thoughts settled on Arthur. Her dear brother had ended up in a hospital with such a nasty stab wound from a mugger- but, as far as she was concerned, the wound was from no mugger. She had done that herself, as-

But that would mean that Arthur was Prince. Arthur Pendragon, heir to the Pendragon “throne,” and… superhero? And not just any superhero, but one of those idiots she had been fending off for a while now. 

That was a surprise, for sure. As far as she had known, he was just Uther's perfect golden son, stuck signing forms and doing nothing of use. That was what had kept her from starting being Witch sooner, but now, to be told otherwise- she was not happy.

She got in the elevator and pushed the button for the reception area. If Arthur really was Prince, not that there was any doubt in her mind at this point that he was, then she could easily use herself to lure him in and finish him off for good. She smiled. The elevator dinged, and she stepped off it and went to the hospital exit.

Somewhere deep down she had a niggling feeling that _this was wrong, that she was planning the death of her own brother_ , but she quashed it. _He made the choice to fight me, now he has to suffer the consequences, she thought. She began scheming._

_\--_

Arthur’s recovery was slow, but it was recovery. He forced Merlin to go back to the office and do some work, because by now the paperwork for both of them would be piling up. It was mostly not time-sensitive things, though. Those forms had been siphoned off to people who weren’t in the hospital for ugly stab wounds.

Gwen visited every day, usually dragging Lance with her so they could talk to Arthur. She silently noted the fact that she saw Merlin there on every trip, a thought she’d come back to later and grin about. The others from around the office came as well, so Arthur never really got too bored. Surprisingly, Morgana’s visits were much fewer.

Merlin would bring pictures of Aithusa for Arthur. Arthur thought this was a ridiculously stupid idea.

“What if you drop some on the street?” Arthur asked as he looked through them.

“People would think they’re fake,” Merlin replied flippantly. “Besides, Arthur, I have magic.” The picture in Arthur’s hand disappeared and reappeared in Merlin’s. “Unless you forgot?” Arthur looked up at Merlin, who was grinning widely.

“Oh, shut up,” he growled. Merlin stuck the picture back in Arthur’s hand. There was a knock on the door and Morgana came in. Merlin hastily grabbed the pictures and stuffed them in his bag. Unfortunately, Morgana saw the movement.

“What were you guys looking at?” she asked. Merlin plastered a grin on his face.

“Nothing,” he said. Arthur rolled his eyes behind him. Morgana raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing? Really? Then what’s this?” she quickly reached into the bag and pulled out the pictures. Arthur’s eyes went wide. “A kitten? That’s it?” There was a quiet release of breath behind him.

“Arthur thought it would be unmanly of him to get caught looking at pictures of my new pet,” Merlin said. Morgana chuckled.

“It is rather cute, isn’t it?” she said. “What’s its name?” She flipped through the pictures, giggling at some.

“I actually have been calling her Aithusa like that dragon that Witch has been seen with,” Merlin replied, trying to be sheepish. He thought he saw a flicker of anger cross Morgana’s face, but it was gone as soon as he thought he’d seen it. He supposed he had imagined it.

“You’re naming your cat after a villain’s pet?” she said.

“Uh, yes?” he replied.

“Merlin’s odd like that, Morgana. He did admit he always was a comic book nerd,” Arthur threw in. A slight flush crept up on Merlin’s cheeks. Morgana laughed.

“Unsurprising. Arthur liked comics too, though. And I may have stolen a few issues from him every now and then,” she admitted. Merlin grinned.

“Arthur’s getting out today,” he said suddenly. Morgana rolled her eyes.

“I know,” she said. “Did you think I wouldn’t know when my brother is getting out of hospital from a _nearly fatal stab wound?_ Anyways, Arthur, there’s no big ‘welcome home’ party planned, for your information.” Arthur pretended to look disappointed, but he was very obviously relieved. _  
_

“They decided to postpone it so that you could have some rest at home beforehand.”

“Oh well,” he replied.

“Speaking of rest at home,” she added, “I’m going out tonight. I have some stuff I need to do, and, as much as I’d like to bug you for the entire evening, I need to do it. So you’re going to be alone, unless you invite a friend over.” She looked pointedly at Merlin, but didn’t say anything.

“’Invite a friend over’? I’m not five,” Arthur grumbled.

“You act like it,” she quipped. “I need to go get some paperwork together for tonight. Merlin, you’ll take him home? I trust you more than I trust him.” Merlin laughed.

“Yes, I’ll drive him home,” he said.

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here!” Arthur protested. They ignored him.

“Bye, Merlin!” Morgana said, standing up and walking to the door. She paused in the frame as he spoke.

“See you, Morgana,” he replied.

“I love you too, Morgana,” Arthur said sarcastically.

“Goodbye, Arthur,” she sighed. She turned and went through, closing it behind her.

\--

Checkout went smoothly. Arthur barely had time to complain about anything before Merlin was pushing him into the car.

“What did the doctor say about me not working for a week? I have an office job; it’s not like I’m in construction or anything,” Arthur grumbled as he buckled his seatbelt.

“Arthur, we all know how you get a bit absorbed in your work,” Merlin chuckled. “It’s really for the best.” He shifted the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street.

“Do I at least have a welcome home party waiting for me at home,” Arthur said, only half joking. Merlin laughed.

“No, I made them hold it off until you got back to the office. Morgana’s busy tonight, so she can’t play gracious host and worry about the food you’ll need to feed the crowd that would have undoubtedly shown up. Also, I’m actually serious about you getting better,” he said. Arthur folded his arms over his chest and glared out the window.

“What are we going to do tonight?” he finally said, turning towards Merlin. Merlin started splutter before Arthur finished. “I mean, are we going to watch a movie together? I don’t want to be alone in the house.”

“That’s... understandable,” Merlin said. “Do you have any good movies?”

“I don’t know what movies you like,” Arthur said, shrugging. “Morgana and I have amassed a large collection of superhero movies though.”

“Seriously?” Merlin said. “I assume you have _Captain America: The First Avenger_ then.”

“It’s my favorite,” Arthur replied, smiling.

“Well, I know what we’re watching, then,” Merlin grinned. Arthur’s hand moved to the compartment between their seats and rested there. Merlin remained still for a moment before quietly reaching away from the steering wheel and tangling his fingers in Arthur’s. They both smiled.

The rest of the ride home was silent.

\--

 

Steve Rogers woke up in the future and the credits rolled. Merlin reluctantly pulled himself off of Arthur and stretched while Arthur turned the movie off.

“I love that movie,” Merlin said. “Steve Rogers is awesome, and Chris Evans is hot.” Arthur laughed and pulled Merlin back down. The room was quiet and the only light was from the lamp on the end table. Merlin was laying against Arthur, who wrapped his arm around Merlin’s waist and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“You know, I thought I was done for,” Arthur admitted. “All I could think about was you. Your dumb smile when you bring me coffee in the mornings and throw the paper onto my desk, the look on your face when you’re concentrating on something you’re writing. Your tongue sticks out a bit, did you know that? It’s actually really adorable.” Merlin sighed.

“You’re not much better,” he said. “You scrunch up your nose a little bit, and when you read something you don’t like or have to write an email to someone you don’t like, it scrunches even more.”

“Oh, shut up,” Arthur replied. “I still haven’t gotten a proper kiss from you, you know. Like, yeah, I kind of got one, but I wasn’t quite awake at that point.” Merlin turned his head slightly in Arthur’s direction.

“Really?” he asked. “Well, better late than never.” He shifted towards Arthur and kissed him, an arm wrapping around the back of Arthur’s head and another coming to rest on Arthur’s jaw. Arthur’s hand came to cover his own while the other reached under Merlin’s arm and began to fiddle with the hair at the nape of Merlin’s neck. Merlin grinned under Arthur’s lips and pulled Arthur in tighter, opening his mouth and letting Arthur in. They shifted the angle of their heads and kept kissing, progressing from a softer, lazier kiss to a harder, more needy kiss. Arthur pushed Merlin back and somehow ended up on top of him, a hand on his hip and another still cradling his head. He broke away from Merlin, both of them panting.

“Merlin,” he said breathlessly. “Do you...” He trailed off without finishing. Merlin stared up at him, pupils blown. Arthur could feel his erection beginning to push against his pants. Looking down, he saw a matching hardness tenting Merlin’s pants.

“It’s not a good idea,” Merlin said. “You’re not supposed to move much for a week.” Arthur silenced him with another kiss, his back arching slightly when his erection pressing against Merlin’s. “Let’s at least get to the bedroom,” Merlin said when Arthur finally pulled away again. Arthur was only all too willing, and they headed upstairs into Arthur’s room. As soon as they reached it Arthur closed the door and began to fumble with the button of his pants. Merlin did the same, and soon they both had rid themselves of clothing and Merlin was stretched out on the bed, Arthur on his hands and knees above him. He dipped down and began to trail soft kisses down Merlin’s body, beginning at the curve of his neck and following an invisible line down his torso. He sucked a slight bruise every now and then, causing Merlin to arch and whimper.

Finally he reached the area between Merlin’s legs and kissed the soft skin right on the inside. A hand reached up and wrapped around Merlin’s cock. The other was placed on his hips to keep him from thrusting as the first hand began to rub slow circles around the slit. Merlin moaned and thrust, but was held in place by Arthur’s hand.

“Arthur,” Merlin managed. Arthur smiled and Merlin gasped as Arthur’s mouth closed around the head of his cock. He swirled his tongue around it and took in as much as he could, running his tongue along the underside. Merlin stuttered and whimpered as Arthur’s now free hand came up and stroked his balls, cupping them and moving them between his fingers.

“Arthur, I-” Suddenly the warm heat retreated as Arthur took his mouth away with a small pop. Merlin whimpered. "No." Merlin heard the sound of a bottle opening and felt a slick finger pressing at his entrance. It pushed but didn't go in, and Merlin would have arched his back if not for the hand still holding his hips.

"You like that?" Arthur asked, his voice low and fuck if that didn't shoot a wave of arousal through Merlin. "You like that a lot." Merlin could hear the grin in his voice.

"Arthur, please," Merlin whined. The finger kept tracing the hole, and Merlin's erection was thick and red against his stomach, precome pooling on his stomach.

"Please what?" Arthur said. "I can't help if you don't tell me."

"Arthur, fuck, I want-" The finger stilled.

"You want?"

"Fuck, Arthur, just- fuck me." Merlin breathed. The finger pushed in with a slight sting, but Merlin panted as it worked its way in to his prostate. Arthur added a second finger, scissoring and stretching Merlin and making him see stars. The third finger was shoved in and Merlin groaned and tried to push himself down onto them, hips attempting to move against Arthur's restricting grip. Then the fingers were gone and Merlin whined needily. He raised his head with some effort to see Arthur ripping open a condom wrapper and slicking himself up. Another shot of need coursed through him at the sight of Arthur, aroused and breathing heavily, running his hand over his cock. Arthur moved towards him and Merlin's head fell back down when he felt the head of Arthur's cock at his entrance. It hesitated, and Merlin had time to hiss, "Do it," before Arthur pushed in. It stung, but it felt amazing at the same time; Arthur filling Merlin and gritting his teeth as he pushed. Arthur released a gasp of air when he was finally all the way in, and they were both still and panting for a moment. Merlin adjusted to the feeling of Arthur in him as Arthur adjusted to bring in Merlin. Then he started moving.

It was slow at first, an almost sluggish movement of the hips. He leaned forward and grabbed Merlin's shoulders; Merlin wrapped his legs around Arthur's waist. He managed to move his head up enough to capture Arthur's mouth in a kiss, sloppy and hot. Arthur kissed him for a moment and then turned his head, trailing kisses down his cheek before sucking on his throat and nipping it lightly. His pace increased as he did so, and Merlin took shallow, gasping breaths as Arthur slammed into him. Arthur buried his face in the hollow of Merlin's collarbone, panting. Merlin could feel Arthur's breath on his skin and knew his own breathing matched it. His heart started pounding even faster as he edged towards climax, and all of the sudden he cried out; his vision was a mask of white as he came. Arthur's thrusting became erratic and then he was coming too, moving even as he climaxed.

Eventually he stilled and slumped over Merlin.

"That..." Arthur trailed off.

"Was inadvisable, but fucking amazing? Yeah," Merlin finished. Arthur pulled out and rolled the condom off, throwing it in the trash can next to the bed. He got up and disappeared into the bathroom. Merlin lifted his head hazily. "Where are you going?" Arthur reappeared with a washcloth and proceeded to wipe the come off of Merlin's stomach, having already cleaned off his own. He threw it in the laundry basket and slipped back into the bed. Merlin scooted closer and curled around him, and Arthur began carding his fingers through Merlin's hair. Merlin made a pleased humming noice and rested his face in the curve of Arthur's neck.

"Love you," murmured Arthur. Merlin smiled into Arthur's skin and pulled away.

"Love you too," he replied, placing a soft kiss on Arthur's lips. He rested his head on Arthur's shoulder and fell asleep to the sound of Arthur's heartbeat and Arthur's fingers stroking his hair.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Arthur woke up to the knowledge that at some point Merlin had untangled himself from Arthur without waking him up and gone downstairs. Arthur has actually just assumed he was downstairs by the sound of someone whistling and the smell drifting upstairs. He got up and pulled on sweats and a t-shirt before heading downstairs.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Merlin said when Arthur entered the kitchen and moved to the coffee maker.

"Like no one's ever said that before," Arthur replied dryly. He set it to brew and leaned on the counter, watching Merlin as he cooked. "What are you making?"

"Pancakes!" Merlin said cheerfully. He wedged his spatula under the half-cooked pancake in the pan and flipped it, causing a loud hissing noise as the batter settled on the hot metal.

"You're absolutely adorable," Arthur said, grinning. He leaned over and kissed Merlin's cheek.

"One of my many positive traits," Merlin smiled.

"Now we just need a 'Kiss the Cook' apron," Arthur said. Merlin laughed.

"Don't even," he said. The timer on the coffee dinged and Arthur poured two cups of coffe and set them on the table, along with utensils, napkins, butter, and syrup. He went out to the front door and grabbed the newspaper. At this point Merlin came over with two plates heaped with pancakes. Arthur poured syrup over his and they ate in a comfortable silence, broken only by ate in a comfortable silence, broken only by the shuffle of paper as one of the flipped page. They finished up breakfast and rinsed their plates before putting them in the dishwasher.

Somehow they wandered into the living room to sit together on the couch and watch some morning television. Arthur pressed a kiss to the top of Merlin's head and smiled before opening a topic he knew Merlin probably didn't want to broach.

"When are we going to start hero duty again?" he asked as casually as he could.

"Arthur," Merlin turned and looked at him, his voice somewhat strained. He spoke in a hesitant, disjointed manner. "We need to be... careful about this; I can't, uh. I can't do that again. I can't have you like that again." He looked at his hands and spoke softly. "I know it's the danger of doing what we do. Helping people is not going to be a safe job, especially when there's people like Witch out there, who are powerful and just want t ocause chaos, but..." He trailed off before looking up, his voice growing stronger. "I'm not saying we should stop. Far from it, in fact. We should keep going. What we do is important. I'm just saying that we need to be so much more cautious now. We're starting to get people who are more than run-of-the-mill petty criminals. If you think Witch is going to be the only one, you're wrong."

"I know Merlin. I don't want that to happen again either, nor do I want you to be on the receiving end of the blade," Arthur replied. "We'll get there soon." He smiled again and leaned forward to kiss Merlin.

Then his phone rang.

He backed away and reached over to grab the receiver on the table. Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"You still have a home phone?" he asked.

"Yes," Arthur hissed as he checked the number on the screen. It was Morgana. It was only then that he noticed Morgana wasn't home, and he pursed his lips in confusion. She was usually still at home at this time. He wondered if she had come ome at all. Finally he clicked the answer button and held the receiver to his ear..

“Arthur!” The first thing she said sounded hysterical. Arthur frowned, and his brows furrowed.

“Morgana? Morgana, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked worriedly. Merlin glanced at him, frowning.

“Help me! Oh gods, Arthur. What the fuck have you been doing?” She was half terrified and half angry. “You know Witch? The lady with the fucking magical powers and shit?” Arthur froze.

“I’ve seen her on the news, yes,” he replied cautiously. He looked up at Merlin, frantically mouthing, “Witch.” Merlin’s eyes widened.

“Well, apparently you know her more than that, because she’s right fucking here and telling me to tell you that you better meet her tonight in Fallen Kings’ Park at midnight or she’ll slit my throat.” Morgana’s voice broke, and she let out a small sob.

“Oh god, Morgana, I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” Arthur whispered. “I’ll come, I promise. Just, don’t worry. Please. You’ll be fine, I promise. I’m sorry.”

“Arthur,” she choked. The line went dead. Arthur dropped the phone on the table and covered his face.

“She has Morgana,” he whispered.

“Oh gods,” Merlin said. He reached out a hand in comfort.

“I need to meet her in Fallen Kings’ Park at midnight,” Arthur said. Merlin looked at him in concern.

“Are you even ready to do any hero work? You just got out of the hospital,” he said.

“Even if I wasn’t, I don’t really have a choice, do I?”  Arthur replied, his voice strained. “I have to save her, Merlin. She’s my sister.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“That’s ridiculous, Merlin. You’re-“

“I already tried that on you, Arthur. You’re not going out there to meet her alone, and that’s final.” Arthur looked up at him and saw the determination in his eyes. Arthur knew there was no choice now; Merlin was coming with him whether he liked it or not. He was slightly relieved, though he'd never admit it.

“Are you bringing Aithusa?” Arthur asked.

“Gods no,” Merlin snorted. “After the previous fiasco? Sure, that was centered around her, but still. We don’t need her there to antagonize Witch any more than she already is.”

“Makes sense,” Arthur said, shrugging.

“We should spend the morning training,” Merlin said suddenly. Arthur nodded.

“Then the afternoon we can rest and be ready for tonight,” he said.

"That sounds good, except for one thing," Merlin said.

"And that is?"

"Where will we train?" Arthur grinned sheepishly and rubbed a hand through his hair as he replied.

"We kind of have a small gym. In the basement," he said.

"You're kidding me."

"Morgana wanted a spot to do whatever she does- I don't know, yoga or something- and we had an unfinished and unused basement. She had it finished as a personal gym. Our dad is the CEO of a company."

"Let's head down, then." Merlin walked towards the basement door.

"Let me get on some better training clothes, then," Arthur said, turning and heading upstairs. When he finished changed and went down to the basement, he found Merlin had changed as well and was sitting on the floor stretching. Arthur said nothing about Merlin's change of clothing, putting it up to magic, and sat next to Merlin. He started going through his own stretches, finding them similar in some ways to Merlin's routine.

"It's nice to get to warm up for once," Arthur said. "I generally don't have time or can't because of Morgana."

"I get ready every now and then, but usually I just try and get in as much sleep as I can after work," Merlin admitted, flexing his toes and stretching his right arm over his head until it nearly was able to grab his foot. Arthur raised his eyebrows, impressed. Merlin noticed.

"I used to take ballet classes," he explained. "It seemed interesting at the time, and now the flexibility I've gained from that, along with the knowledge of how exactly to carry my momentum, really helps me."

"That's interesting," Arthur said. "I'd have never pegged you as a dancing type, Merlin."

"Dancers are pretty hardcore," Merlin replied defensively. "Have you ever been to a ballet? They're extremely strong."

"I wasn't making fun of you, Merlin. I just never thought you'd enjoy that sort of thing." He stood up and stretched his arms over his head. "Are you ready?" Merlin got up as well.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he replied, taking a position across the room. "This will be a no-magic spar.I need to practice plain fighting in case Witch manages to suppress my powers temporarily."

"She can do that?" Arthur asked. Merlin shrugged.

"Possibly. I don't know the scope of her powers, but if she is strong enough there are a few spells that can stop me from using it," he explained. Arthur nodded and dropped into a slight crouch, legs apart to give him a firm stance and weight distributed evenly. Merlin's style was different, though; he shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet and slightly bent one leg. Merlin's stance was obviously made for faster movement, so Arthur took this into account as he lunged forward with a fist.

Merlin darted around and under Arthur's fist and jabbed him in the armpit with three fingers. Arthur winced in pain and swung around, bringing his leg up. Merlin stopped it with both his hands and pushed on it, causing Arthur to lose his balance and barely avoid falling over. He recovered and spun away from Merlin, putting a few feet between them. Merlin grinned.

"Scared?" he said. Arthur refused to take the bait and they circled warily around each other. Merlin caved and stepped in to deliver a tight punch to Arthur's abdomen. Arthur cringed and clutched what Merlin realized was his stab wound. Merlin stepped back, stuttering out an apology.

"Shit- fuck, Arthur, I'm sorry," he said. Arthur waved it away.

"I'm fine," he replied through gritted teeth. "Witch wouldn't avoid the spot, so you shouldn't."

"Arthur," Merlin put his hand on Arthur's arm. Arthur slowly stood up and took a step away from Merlin.

"Come on," he said, motioning for Merlin to keep going. He settled into his stance. "I'm ready." Merlin didn't move. "Fine then," Arthur growled. He leaped forward and attempted to punch Merlin in the stomach. Merlin reflexively blocked it and slapped the side of Arthur's hand with an open palm. Arthur took the slap and the momentum from it and spun around, delivering a kick to Merlin's side. Metlin stumbled back a few steps. He looked up to see Arthur grinning a very obviously forced grin.

"Come and get me," he said. Merlin jumped back into the fight grimly.

\----

Arthur wiped sweat from his brow as he came up the steps. A few bruises were already starting to come into view. Merlin watched him fretfully. His magic pushed out and he let it drift towards Arthur and poke at the sore spots. Arthur could obviously feel it because he batted a strand away withan exasperated sigh.

"Merlin, I am fine," he said. "Stop worrying." Merlin had had enough at that point. He grabbed Arthur's arm and forced him to turn around.

"Arthur. You were just released from the hospital for a near-fatal stab wound. Your sister has been kidnapped by the person who gave you said wound. You are not fine, Arthur, and you know it," Merlin said firmly. His face seemed to soften as he continued. "I'm worried for good reason, and you know it." Arthur looked away in an attempt to shield his face, but Merlin raised an hand to his chin and slowly pulled him back. Tears glistened on his cheeks. His face was the face of a broken man; one who had been shattered and needed help gluing himself back together. Merlin saw this, and pulled Arthur closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Arthur submitted and they stood there for a moment.

Arthur pulled away and straightened up.

"I'm going to go take a shower," he said. He started up the stairs to the second floor. Merlin veered into the kitchen and began searching through the fridge. He eventually decided on a sandwich and made it while listening to the shower upstairs. He was still worried about Arthur.

Arthur was strong, he knew that. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. But with everything that had been going on lately, nearly dying, learning that Merlin was his crime-fighting companion, Morgana being kidnapped... There must have been cracks forming in Arthur's psyche. Merlin sighed and sat down to eat.

\----

Arthur threw the sweaty clothes into his hamper and stepped into the bathroom, switching on the lights. He turned the shower on before turning to the sink and turning the cold water faucet on. He let the water pool in his hands before splashing it over his face and looking back up at the mirror. He winced.

There were dark bags under his eyes, and his entire face had a haggered look. Spots of blue and purple bloomed on his sides, and the scar tissue where Witch had stabbed him was still pink. It hadn't opened during their training session, thank the gods, but it was clear the training session had not been a good idea. Arthur knew he had no choice about that, though. His body needed to get in gear for later that night.

He stepped into the shower and let the water stream over him. It splashed over his skin and ran down his back, so hot it was almost searing. He ignored the combined pain of the bruises and water and simply thought, attempting to organize everything that had been happening to him as of late.

1) Merlin was Warlock. That shock had worn off a while ago, though, after he woke up in the hospital. He could safely say that was not contributing to his current state. Much.

2) He had been stabbed and nearly died. Now that was a big one. The thought of seeing Witch again, even if it was for Morgana, terrified him. But he had to push through that fear and keep moving.

3) Witch knew who he was. He supposed she had probably checked hospital records or something, but he wasn’t sure. Was he being watched right now? Did she have some sort of magical eye on the house, analyzing his every move? He couldn’t possibly know. But worse than Witch knowing who he was was the last thing.

4) Witch had Morgana. Morgana, his sister. Morgana, the girl he’d grown up with and currently lived with and was more family to him than Uther ever was and possibly ever would be.

Not only did Witch know who he was, she had played on his nightmare that someone would find out who he was and use his loved ones against him. She had done to him what she had done to Merlin.

Arthur had played the hero, and now Morgana was in trouble for it.

He realized he was crying. The tears mingled with the rivulets of water pouring down his face, and Arthur let out a sob. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and stared at the drain, as if looking at it would help him in some way.

Arthur was standing there, tears falling freely down his face, when he felt a warmth in his mind, like a hand reaching out and resting softly on his face. He gave a start when he recognized the feeling of Merlin's magic swirling in him and making him feel warm in a way that wasn't physical. The magic seemed to whisper in his ear and caress his hair, saying, "You will be ok." Arthur felt a rush of gratitude and affection for Merlin. He finished his shower and looked in the mirror. He still looked tired, but there was a little shift, somehow there but unnoticeable.

Merlin was at the table, reading a section of the newspaper he had missed, when Arthur came down. He looked up as Arthur walked into the kitchen. Arthur leaned over and wrapped his arms around Merlin, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"Thank you," he whispered. Merlin smiled sadly and hugged Arthur tighter.

\----

They stood at the entrance to Fallen Kings' Park, unsure of what to do. After a few minutes of consideration, the two cloaked figures strode through the gates and headed down a path through the trees. They eventually stopped at an intersection between two paths that was completely surrounded by trees.

“She neglected to mention where exactly in the park she wanted to meet me,” Arthur said fretfully. Merlin laid a hand on his arm reassuringly.

“She’s bound to show up,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

“Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here,” a voice to their right drawled. Witch stepped out from behind a tree, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Arthur brought his sword up to a defensive position.

“Where is Morgana?” he said darkly. “You better not have fucking touched her." Witch laughed.

“Your dear, sweet sister, yes. She’s fine, I assure you,” she said. “Nearby, actually.”

“Give her back, now,” Arthur growled.

“You know, it wasn’t really hard connecting the dots about who you were, Arthur Pendragon,” Witch mused. “You were the only member of the Pendragon Publishing staff to end up in the hospital with a near-fatal stab wound. Not to mention your reaction when you learned little old Merlin over there was Warlock.”

“Cut the chatter,” he said. "Bring me Morgana."

“Or what, you’re going to hit me with you sword? You did miss last time, honey,” she replied, a grin in her voice. “Anyways, after our little fight before, I just had to do a little checking to figure it out. Well, not so much checking as answering the phone.” Arthur’s brow furrowed.

“What?” he asked.

“I was the first person they called, Arthur,” she said. “Even before Uther. I do live with you after all, brother.” Merlin’s eyes widened, and Arthur gasped in shock.

“No,” he whispered. Witch reached up and pulled off her mask. She threw it to the ground, and Arthur started in horror as he stared at Morgana. “Why?”

“Everyone needs a little chaos, Arthur. A little ruin,” she said. “It was just your unfortunate choice to try and be the order.” The words ended in a snarl and she threw her hand up, throwing him into a tree.

Merlin immediately threw a bolt of magic at her, but she threw up a sort of shield and it bounced off harmlessly. Merlin noted that the impact did make her stumble back a bit, but had to duck as she threw a shockwave of her own. It barely missed him and he took the chance to use magic to pull on her leg with a spell, making her fall over.

Arthur had stood up by this point and was watching her with a sad look in his eyes. His sword was raised slightly but was unsteady. He moved over in resignation to get on the opposite side of her that Merlin was on.

Morgana stood up and kept looking between Merlin and Arthur. She occasionally feigned moving towards one or the other, hoping to get a reaction, but they stood where the were and didn’t so much as flinch.

“ _Bærn!_ ”Merlin took the chance when she was looking in Arthur’s direction to put his hand up and yell out a spell. A ring of fire spread around her feet, and she hissed angrily. She attempted to extinguish it and was surprised when she found that she couldn’t. She instead took a more direct route and turned towards Merlin, throwing a fireball at him. He stopped it mid air and pushed it back. It hit her in the side and she screamed. She was able to put that fire out, but it had done slight damage to her.

Merlin could see she was taking the fight more seriously this time. Last time she had had a much more laid back attitude that said that she thought she could take them both easily. She must have realized how much she had underestimated them, and was determined not to make the same mistake.

But last time they hadn’t managed to hurt her. And now, along with the concentration, he saw the fear in her eyes as well.

“Why, Morgana?” Arthur’s voice was soft, but the phrase seemed to echo in the trees. “You’re my sister. I thought I knew you.” Morgana stepped over the edge of the ring of flames and took a few steps back until she was in a position in which both Merlin and Arthur were in plain view before she responded.

“Uther always like you better,” she said, glaring at Arthur.

“No, he didn’t, Morgana,” Arthur replied. “What does that have to do with this?”

“He always preferred you, his golden boy,” she continued. “I was… I was an extra. He always wanted a boy. Someone to be the ‘heir’ to the company. When mother had a girl the first time, he must have been so disappointed.”

“What are you talking about, Morgana?”

“We don’t even have the same mother. Didn’t Uther ever tell you that?” she asked. “He divorced my mother after she had me. Then he got sole custody of me. She didn’t want me.” Morgana took a deep breath. “He didn’t either, but he felt some sort of obligation to take me in.”

“He’s always coddled you; you’ve always been Uther’s little girl,” Arthur said in confusion. “Sure, he didn’t come home with sweets, but… Morgana, please. Just. Please come home, please stop, please don’t do this. You’re good. I know you are.”

“But that’s the thing, Arthur, isn’t it?” She laughed a somewhat deranged laugh. “I’m not. Something happened to me, Arthur. And now you have to deal with it.” She used their distraction to throw Merlin against a tree.

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled. “Morgana! Stop! You’re not thinking! You’re being unreasonable!”

“Be quiet, Arthur,” she said. “You’ve never seen Uther for what he really is. He’s more family to you that I ever was.” Arthur gaped.

“Morgana, that-” he started.

“No,” she cut him off. “You and your thieving sidekick are done for, Arthur. Aithusa was all I had left, and now she’s gone too.” She spun around as a bolt of lightning came from Merlin’s direction. It struck her directly, and a scream tore from her throat as she was thrown back. Arthur looked towards the source of the bolt and saw Merlin there, hunched over and panting. It was easy to tell that he had put a lot of his power into that blast. Arthur rushed over to his side and slung his arm around Merlin’s shoulders, helping him stand up. He looked back over at Morgana, who was struggling to her feet. She looked up, betrayal in her eyes, at seeing Arthur there with Merlin.

“You’ve chosen him over me too,” she said. “Just like Aithusa did. Just like Uther chose you over me. Well, maybe if you’re not around then he’ll choose me.” Her form seemed to shimmer and glow and a surge of magical energy slammed into them. Merlin was able to throw a shield up, but it was weak and shattered. The brunt of the energy didn’t hit them, but they still were hit hard enough to stumble back. She fell to the ground and didn’t move.

Arthur let go of Merlin and approached Morgana’s prone form cautiously. She didn’t suddenly stand up or shoot magic at him as he stepped over her, and he could barely see her side moving as she breathed. He sheathed his sword and pulled out his dagger instead. Merlin stood behind him tensely and he turned her over onto her back. Her eyes were closed and she was twitching with residual power from the explosion of energy.

“Is there anything you can do for her?” Arthur said, looking over his shoulder at Merlin. “Something to help her?” Merlin crouched next to Arthur and put his hand on Morgana’s forehead, whispering a few words. Morgana stopped twitching and seemed to relax a little, her breathing getting deeper.

“I’ve put her to sleep, but beyond that there’s not much I can do for her,” Merlin admitted. He took a deep breath before turning to Arthur. “I need to lock her magic.”

“What does that mean?” Arthur asked, his forehead creasing worriedly.

“I’m going to make her unable to access her power,” Merlin explained. “It won’t hurt her, but it will keep her from doing anything harmful. I researched it after I met someone else who had magic. I realized that if other people have it, then some are going to use it for bad things. It took a lot of digging, but I think I found a spell that will keep her from using her magic. I’d hoped I’d never have to use it,” he added, turning to look at Morgana sadly, “but it seems I have no choice.”

“Do it,” Arthur said wearily. “We’ll have to figure out what to do with her, but the first step needs to be removing her ability to hurt others. At least, the most effective ability.” Merlin nodded and turned back to Morgana. He whispered a few more words and  his eyes flashed, the gold staying for longer than Arthur had ever seen it do before. When the glow finally died, he turned toward Arthur and nodded.

Arthur reached down and tangled his fingers with Merlin’s.

\----

“How was Morgana today, Arthur?” Merlin asked tentatively.

“She was fine,” Arthur responded with a frown. “She still refuses to speak to anyone.”

They had taken her to the hospital after she had collapsed. She suffered from several burns and severe trauma, though no one knew how. She had been dropped off in the front anonymously, still wearing her dress and the mask sitting next to her. The press had gone wild when they realized that the villain Witch had been unmasked as none other than Morgana Pendragon, oldest child of the CEO of Camelot Publishing. Both Uther and Arthur had been called for interviews, but Arthur had politely turned them down and Uther had done the same, though not nearly as politely.

Uther was in shock. He didn’t know what could have motivated her to do it and spent a lot of time alone in his study. Merlin had practically all but moved into Arthur’s home, and was there every day when Arthur got done with his visit to Morgana’s hospital room. Aithusa, who had been changed back into a dragon, was curled up on the couch in the living room. When Arthur walked in she sat up and cocked her head.

“Why did I let you turn her back into a dragon?” he asked. “She’s more messy than she was as a kitten, and she can breathe fire. She’s going to set the house on fire while we’re at work or escape and be found, Merlin.”

“She wasn’t comfortable as a cat,” Merlin said. “How would you like it if I turned you into a gorilla and made you stay like that? And she knows she’s not supposed to leave the house. She actually literally can’t, Arthur. I put a spell on the borders so that she can’t leave unless we’re here. Also, she only can cough out a few sparks at this point. She is just a baby, after all.” Merlin reached over and stroked Aithusa’s head. She made a purring noise and pushed into the touch. Arthur tried to remain straight-faced but soon gave in and scratched beneath her chin, smiling.

“Dinner is ready, by the way,” Merlin said, walking to the kitchen. Aithusa hopped off the couch and followed them. “I made italian.”

“My favorite,” Arthur said, a smile quirking the corner his mouth.

\----

After dinner they sat together on the couch and Merlin turned on the news. This had become a routine. They’d check the news for anything that might need Warlock and Prince’s help right at that moment. If nothing came up, they’d take a nap and leave later that night.

So far they hadn’t seen anything during this time, so they didn’t pay attention much. Merlin was resting his head drowsily on Arthur’s chest when suddenly the phrase, “breaking news,” caught his attention. He snapped up and focused.

“There has been reports of unusual activity downtown,” the reporter said. “Many have mentioned a man wearing a strange suit doing things that the witnesses had no explanation for and pushing away civilians by raising his hand and speaking a language no one understands.” The reporter paused and listened to something being said to her through her earpiece. “We have just received a video from a location of one of the attacks. This is not a video from an official news source, but it’s the best we have so far.” A video started playing on the screen. A young man with dark hair was standing in shattered glass from a storefront window, his eyes glowing gold, and objects were floating from the store. The owner came from the shop brandishing a pistol, but the man simply looked at him and the store owner was thrown into the air and through the broken window.

The man turned to look at the person taking the video, the gold fading from his eyes, and they finally had a clear shot. He wore an outfit that had a purple cloud-like formation and something clicked in Merlin’s brain.

“I’ve met him before!” he said, turning to Arthur. “The night I first met you. As in Prince.” Arthur looked at him in surprise.

“How?” he asked.

“He was breaking into a shop, and I caught him doing it,” Merlin explained. “He had magic, but it was really weak. I blocked it, but it was before I researched how to do it properly, so I guess it didn’t hold. I was kind of clumsy about it.”

“You are pretty clumsy,” Arthur smirked. Merlin rolled his eyes.

“He said his name was Mordred. I looked it up, but there was no one in any nearby schools or colleges who had that name,” he said. Just then there was a sudden movement on the screen and they turned to see that Mordred had raised his hand towards the person taking the video and the screen went dark. the screen transitioned back to the reporter.

“The sender reported that they were not injured and and that he took off down the street afterwards,” the reporter said. “Any tips on the whereabouts and activity of this man should be reported to the police immediately. He has reportedly injured approximately 10 civilians so far.”

“Well, I guess we’ve got something to do then,” Arthur said.

\----

They stood on the roof of Camelot Publishing 20 minutes later, masks in hand and cloaks on their shoulders.

“Race you there,” Arthur said.

Merlin grinned at Arthur and slipped on his mask.

\--

"So, really, we ended up being the first town superheroes. All those comic book fantasies that we had had as kids came true. As Prince and I stand on the rooftops and look over the city, we think about all we’ve been through and all that we’ve done. Witch is in prison for an indefinite amount of time- I am hopeful that she’ll realize what she did wrong, but reports I’ve heard suggest she will not. We’ve come so far, but there’s still so much to do. All in the life of a superhero, I suppose.”

-Warlock, in a brief interview with a reporter from “The Camelot Gazette”

 


End file.
